I am in a funk—a depression that lingers like chapped lips. I’ve done all of the stuff and things that I’m supposed to do: gone on walks, prayed, wrote, reached out to my people, but the blues are here to stay nonetheless. Stupid sadness. Annoying sorrow. I don’t have time for you. Maybe that’s the problem… I haven’t given myself time to work through this… whatever this is.

I wonder if its grief? I did lose both my father and grandfather within three weeks of each other, and to be honest, I haven’t really allowed myself to feel the pain. I haven’t even taken a day off of work. Instead, I’ve just plowed through. So, grief… yeah… it’s probably grief.

But… here’s the thing, I don’t think it’s just grief. Whatever this is feels deeper than grief (if that’s possible) and darker. Grief is just the tip of the iceberg, and if you’ve ever seen what lies beneath an iceberg, you know it’s A LOT.

There’s also the anxiety of returning to in-person school and possibly coming face-to-face with COVID-19 , but even that isn’t the big bad that’s got me so wound up. Perhaps it’s the fact that I don’t have control of this chaos. I have to go back to work. It’s not my choice or decision. Though I LOVE distance learning, normalcy beckons at the door, and regardless of how much I ignore the knock, this visitor isn’t getting the hint. It’s here to stay. Yes, this must be a part of the iceberg, but it’s just a portion. There’s so much more within the ice.

What if I’m frustrated because I haven’t been as successful as I thought I’d be at this point in my life? Five years ago, I would have bet I’d have at least one book traditionally published, but that hasn’t happened… yet. So, I keep on writing. I wait. I write some more. I wait. I edit and revise until my head hurts. And then, I wait some more. Yes, this is part of my depression: the wait… it sucks!

Maybe it stems from getting older. Maybe it’s because I struggle losing weight. What if it’s because I have a chemical imbalance? OR I’m premenopausal? The list is never-ending, and going through every symptom is exhausting. I’m exhausted.

So, what’s the cause of my depression? All of the above, and so much more. What do I plan on doing about it? The same thing I’m doing now. I’ll write about it, I’ll go on walks, I’ll pray about it, and I’ll reach out to my people. I’ll keep doing all the stuff and things because that’s what gets me through the frigid, dark waters. That’s what keeps the iceberg at bay.

Depression bites. Its an annoying pecking at the back of my brain, reminding me of all the areas I fail. Except… except I don’t fail. Not really because I keep fighting and what if that’s the point. I just keep fighting because I can’t let this monster prevail. This beast, with its twisted teeth and soulless eyes, it doesn’t deserve to win. Not today. Not tomorrow. Nor any other day in the future.

Depression… you’ve overstayed your welcome. I’m over it… I’m over you. Get the point, already, and say goodbye, Felicia. We are not friends. We never were, and we never will be. Close the door behind you on your way out and kick rocks.