I've needed this advice lately.
My head is not a healthy place right now. This is a reoccurring theme in my life. Most of the time I'm okay with that. I accept it, I'm strong enough to fight, I can see clearly enough to recognize it is a part of me but not all of me, and not a personal failure. A quirk.
But every once in awhile, I get so tired. I don't want to fight anymore. I simply don't want this. Frankly, some days the feelings that I am a failure and that I am meaningless are overpowering. The side if myself that still sees reason tries to say there is still hope and time to accomplish, that there is another way of looking at things, that my Father in Heaven or my family would never tell me such things. But the lies are strong and sometimes they are so much louder. My anxiety is so high right now. The waves of sadness are profound. Normally they don't visit at the same time, but here they are. It's like someone is crushing my chest, and I'm just waiting like an empty can of soda pop to shrivel up and then disappear.
I used to struggle with aligning this struggle with the blessings in my life. Like how can this be real if there are so many other trials, and I've been given so much. But I am learning something, after all these years. I have carried this cross since I was twelve years old. My life is beautiful, with more blessings then I can count. But seeing signs in my children makes me sad. Knowing it is an ancestral struggle helps me understand. This isn't the worst thing. It isn't terminal. But it is ravaging. You know what it is?
It is a life sentence.
And sometimes that is hard to deal with.
I don't know if it's time to go get some help with medication. Maybe it is, and if it is, I wouldn't be ashamed of that. But maybe I can claw my way out again. I don't know. I'd like to if I could.
This is my history, and sometimes history is ugly. But I think I'd rather live in my truth then have no one ever really know me. They are simply things that are difficult to say out loud.