Michelle Obama admitted last week that she’s been dealing with low-grade depression.
Girl, same.
Low-grade depression: check!
Mrs. Obama didn’t have to do this. But she did. And I’m doing so she opened the doors for so many of us to have conversations that we were afraid to have before. She opened the doors to talk about how depression has seeped in and creeped in, nefarious and insidious, and taken root.
Everything is in chaos.
Life is in upheaval.
School and work are giant question marks.
And don’t even get me started on the crisis of leadership facing the United States right now.
It’s hard to feel grounded when the ground beneath us is ever-shifting.
I told my family a few weeks ago that I thought I was struggling with low-grade depression. I wasn’t sure; I’ve never felt this way before. But they gave me the floor to talk about it. They were patient with me as I worked through it. They offered me sounding boards without shoving answers down my throat. They made space for me.
It’s 3pm Eastern on a Saturday. Truth be told, I’m still in bed. I’m going through a lot right now, and it’s throwing me for a loop. Sound familiar? But space, time, and puppy snuggles are what I needed today. So I took it. I spoke my authentic, vulnerable feelings to those who love me and they allowed me to take what I needed.
You are loved. You are strong. You might not be yourself today. But I see you. You are not alone. And I know that you can handle this.
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