I'm going to be really honest. I wanted to share something fluffy and neat, but these last few weeks have not been that. This year has been one of massive fluctuations in my mental health, and the last few weeks have dipped again. It's taking a toll. There is so much I have wanted to do and give, but honestly, all of my energy is being spent on self care. I've been feeling guilty about this. Like, really selfish. I want to assure you that I don't say all of this to be self-indulgent, although I can't help but imagine that's the general consensus when I share my battle with anxiety. But the depression (that was hard to admit) is getting to the point where there just is nothing else. So, I'm slowly allowing myself to let go of all the things I had planned to do and wanted to give to let myself heal first. In all of this I'm finding that there is still gratitude and there is always hope. Maybe that's all I have some days. Because God is with me in all of the depths of this thing. I know it. I'm a survivor because of it.

I wrote this poem about the experience.

I feel the ground pull away from under me
as my feet lose balance and my body collapses
I'm both heavy and weightless
As gravity drags me down
unwillingly beyond the ground I'm bound
to a place I can't escape
fingers fumble for the rip cord
but I'm just too late
I propel further into dark fog
not knowing where I'm going
or for how long
my body surrenders
and I lean into the twisting turns
as truth reveals itself to me I learn
that it's here for me
and you're here for me
but when I say "no, I'm fine"
and hide under a rehearsed smile
I see you from the corner of my eye
holding me protecting me
sitting patiently with me
and this landscape doesn't change
The shadows dance and duplicate
but as a new sun takes shape
I lift weary eyes and say
because it's all that I can do
all I've got is thank you

by Kel Wahlstrom