2 am

It’s 2:00 AM and I can’t sleep.

I’m in the middle of one of my depressive episodes again. They usually last about a week. Long enough to feel like emotional torture, but not long enough to completely destroy my life. Just long enough to make everything feel darker than it really is.

Right now I feel incredibly sad, yet I can’t even cry it out. It’s like the emotion is stuck somewhere inside my chest with nowhere to go. My mind is racing with every worry imaginable at the same time — my life, bills, the future, my purpose.

And then my mind starts questioning everything I’ve built.

This blog.

Does it matter?

Does anything I do really matter?

I know that’s the depression talking. I’m aware of it. But awareness doesn’t stop the thoughts once they get inside your head. When depression creeps in, life suddenly feels very dark. I feel lonely. Uncertain. Sometimes even hopeless.

I’ve spent years trying to build something greater than myself. Years trying to “find” myself. Yet somehow I’m never fully satisfied.

I’ve tried so many paths.

Modeling.

Acting.

Singing.

And now writing.

Each one felt like it could be the thing — the purpose, the passion, the thing that finally made everything make sense.

But here I am.

Still searching.

I know one thing for sure: I don’t want to be an insurance agent forever. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life constantly struggling just to stay ahead financially. I want something more meaningful than that. I want to make a difference somehow.

Life right now - just feels too hard.

Tonight is one of those nights.

I’m angry, sad and lonely.

Is this blog even worth it?

I honestly don’t know anymore.

What I do know is that I never wanted to be the type of person who gives up on their dreams. I don’t want to settle for a life that feels small. I just don’t understand why it’s taking so long for me to find the thing that truly makes me happy.

Maybe I’m trying too hard.

Maybe I’m wasting my time.

Lately I’ve been thinking about stepping away from social media for a while. Just unplugging completely. Focus on my writing and figure out what I want.

What people see on the outside isn’t always what’s happening inside.

For the most part, I am a happy person. I can be happy.

But even as a Christian, I struggle deeply with my emotions sometimes. There are moments where I feel like an outcast — even around my own husband.

I go through the wife routine on autopilot.

The cooking, the cleaning, keeping things organized while I’m screaming inside.

I feel like the hired help. I don’t feel like a wife. I feel like the maid. Sometimes I resent it very much.

It’s a strange place to be.

I just want more out of life than working an office job and cleaning my house.

Sometimes I want to talk about what I’m feeling, and other times I don’t want to talk at all. Sometimes I want to go out and do something fun, and other times I don’t want to move from my house.

It’s no one’s fault.

Depression is just complicated like that.

These episodes usually last about a week. I’ve learned that over the years. And right now I’m right smack in the middle of one.

The worst part is I don’t even have words of encouragement for myself tonight.

No inspirational quote.

No hope.

No Bible verse neatly tying it all together.

Just the raw truth.

I’m incredibly sad and that’s all there is to it.