Today My Depression Is Winning

Today feels heavy. The kind of heavy that sits on your chest and makes it hard to breathe. I woke up already tired, like I’d been fighting a battle all night in my sleep. And honestly, I think I was.

Some days I can fake it—smile, laugh, get through the motions of work, parenting, conversations. But today my depression is louder than all of that. It tells me I’m not enough, that I’m failing, that the people I love deserve better. And even though deep down I know those thoughts aren’t the truth, today they feel so convincing.

I hate these days because they make me feel weak, but admitting them out loud is a strength I’m trying to lean into. Because this is what depression looks like. It isn’t always crying on the bathroom floor (though sometimes it is). More often, it’s exhaustion. It’s irritability. It’s staring at the wall because even simple tasks feel like mountains. It’s guilt for not being the parent, partner, or friend I want to be.

Today my depression is winning—but that doesn’t mean it wins forever. I’ve been here before, and I know I’ll climb back out again. I know I’ll have days where the sun feels warm instead of blinding, where laughter feels genuine instead of forced, where I feel proud instead of ashamed.

But today? Today I’m giving myself permission to admit I’m not okay. I’m giving myself permission to rest. To just survive. Because sometimes survival is victory enough.

If you’re reading this and you’re here too—in the dark, in the heaviness—please know you’re not alone. Depression doesn’t get the final word. Not for me, and not for you.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Postpartum Journey: OCD, Anxiety, and Finding My Way

Becoming a parent changes everything. And for me, those changes didn’t just stop at diapers and sleepless nights — they came in the form of postpartum OCD, anxiety, and depression. I never expected that loving my baby would feel so complicated. The thoughts that raced through my mind, the constant worry, the small rituals I felt I had to do just to feel safe — it was exhausting. Some days, I felt completely out of control; other days, I couldn’t stop questioning if I was “doing it right.” I started this blog, Tiny Hands Big Changes, because I want to share the reality of postpartum mental health. I want other parents to know: if you feel anxious, scared, or overwhelmed after birth, you are not alone. These experiences don’t make you a bad parent — they make you human. Here, I’ll share: My personal struggles and victories Raw poems that describe my postpartum journey Honest reflections on the emotional rollercoaster of parenthood This is a space for truth, for community, and for support...
Read more

Before I Was Ready poem about being induced early

They said it was time. But I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not like this. I had counted the weeks like stepping stones— dreamed of making it to the end, of crossing that finish line with swollen feet and a full heart. I wanted the last kicks. The last stretch. The waiting. The wondering. The story where my body decides when it’s time. But instead— monitors. Numbers. The word induction said with calm voices while my own heart raced. I nodded, signed the forms, swallowed the fear and did what I had to do. But later— when the room was quiet and the baby was here and the world said, “You should be happy”— I grieved. Not because he wasn’t perfect. He was. Not because I wasn’t grateful. I was. But because it wasn’t what I pictured. Because I didn’t get the ending I’d written in my head a hundred times. I missed the last stretch of the journey. I missed feeling ready. I missed that final swell of waiting that so many others seem to get. And that’s the part no one tells you: That even when everything...
Read more