You are invited to submit for September series:
Why Do I Write?
Deadline for submissions September 1.
Depression speaks to me.
Some days I can blow it off and tell myself you are better than that and go about my way.
Other times …other times it’s like a slow torturing madness cutting off my will to live
Making me want to shut out everyone I know and love deeply–
even my dear sweet sons that I love more than anything else in the world.
My poor husband is just along for the ride with me.
I wonder will he ever grow weary of it all and simply call out “Stop! I simply can not take anymore of this!” He’ll say, “I love you honey but I just can’t take it anymore and I’m sorry.” I won’t beg him to stay because the depression will tell me that’s it’s all my fault and now you’re truly alone just like you always feared that you would be.
It tells me I’m not good enough not pretty enough and
certainly not smart enough to amount to anything.
It echoes in my head like a beating drum
It tells me that I’ll never get better
I’ll never be happy.
It makes me want to push away people that I love, it tells me that no one loves me that I’m expendable and everyone would be better off without me around
It also tells me that no one cares
My name is Heather Bowden and this is a portion of the contents of my head. I’m a stay-at-home-mom to my two boys and I’m married to my best friend who has saved me from the darkness of my depression more times than I can count.