Days like today are probably the days I need you the most.

I haven't known Depression as long as you have. For me, it was the anxiety that broke out first. Nightmares, ever since I was a child. The conscious fears followed later, when I became old enough to understand how things work around me. But Depression has always been there, in the background, watching. Waiting. 

Eight years ago today it happened. A moment woven so deep into my soul that I can still see it when I close my eyes. What I was wearing. Where I was standing. What I was thinking. I didn't understand it at the time, but I know now that that moment triggered my first major depressive episode. That's what that bastard, Depression, has been waiting for all these years.

I've been fighting it ever since. Some days more successfully than others. I started planning my suicide more times than I can count. Most days, I was alive, but not living. You called it survival mode. It's almost scary how accurate a name it is. But I didn't realise that, not until pretty recently.

When I found your Facebook page almost three years ago, I was in a very different place than I am now. Looking back, it feels almost naive. There was so much I was yet to realise about who I am, about my life and the people around me. It took months and months, but I came to see those things. Slowly, and with a lot of help.

But that's not why I'm writing this.

When I found your page (a little under) three years ago, I knew one thing: Depression is a liar. But I had no idea how to fight it. I had no idea how to shut it up when it tells me I'm alone, or that nobody cares about me, or that I can't have a better life. I had to idea how to let all those emotions and thoughts out in any sort of a coherent way. I didn't think it was possible.

The first post I read was probably A Good Talking To. To date, it's still one of my favourites. There's a good chance it is because it does all of the above.

Most of what I know about fighting this monster, I learned from you. From this beautiful little community you created. From your posts, your notes, your answers, your care chronicles. A lot of my belief in my ability to fight it comes from you. Even while your page was offline, in the worst times, I went back to your posts, to remind myself that things can be better. That it is possible to fight it. That Depression is a liar, and it's not to be trusted.

Days like today, I wonder what you'd have done. I wonder what you'd have said if I told you how hard today is for me. I wonder what advice you'd have to offer. I imagine you'd have said this is a good place to start. It is. It's not the only place to start on your page, but it's a start. A Good Talking To, which I mentioned earlier, is another start.

Days like today, I go back to your page and reread my favourite posts (probably in the thousandth time). Pick up your words of wisdom. Remind myself of the tools you gave me for this fight. Show myself - reading your experiences, browsing through the comments - that I'm not alone. A lot of people are in the same place. And it's okay. It's something we can talk about. It's something we should talk about, especially in times like this.

And I feel hope. Even if just a tiny bit. A tiny glimmer. It's so easy to extinguish. It's barely even there. But it is. 

So I tell myself it's okay. Some days are harder than others. Some days brings back painful memories. Some days require more efforts fighting Depression. But that's okay. It doesn't make me useless, or weak, or stupid, or incapable. Even though that's what Depression tells me.

But I know now that Depression is a liar. Those voices in my head, stacking up the black coins in that vault*, they're liars, too. They're the result of years of emotional abuse. They're liars, and there are ways to fight them, even in the worst days. Even if it's just by speaking life. Or practicing self-care. Or rereading your words to remind myself that it's okay, and it's a fight worth fighting, and that I can do it.

So days like today, I'm grateful that you're here. That you shared those thoughts and emotions with us. That you started this beautiful community. That luck brought me to you. I don't have many of them, but your voice is one of those that stack up the gold coins*. It's one of those voices that speak life. And I'm grateful for it.

Thank you. For the inspiration, for the hope, for the tools you gave me. For everything you taught me. (And it's good to have you back.)

Koalas xo 🐨❤

-A.C.

*See A Good Talking To