Do our eyes ever run out of tears to cry? Does it ever feel like it will be normal? We tell ourselves everyday that it will be ok. And if itβs not us giving ourselves the reminder, somebody else is. But the fear doesnβt go away just because someone tells you itβs going to be ok.
The days get harder and longer, and then sometimes they feel amazing and magical and seemingly perfect.
Anxiety and depression are words we throw around so frequently and so easily, as if they are just regular descriptors of our feelings. I donβt think thatβs fair. I donβt think we should take the gravity and magnitude out of the weight those feelings we carry as nothing but mere βfeelingsβ.
People are so quick to tell us to just breathe, or to just relax as if they can understand that that is the only thing in the world we wish we could do. None of this is cured in an instant and nobody can truly understand unless theyβre going through it.