Speaking Up

It is hard to believe, but depression has actually left me unable to speak up for myself in many cases until recently. I accepted the negative opinion of others as the truth-- when I knew they were wrong about me.

Imagining anything but day after day with depression seems impossible. It certainly did for me. But there is hope.

When I got the stupid news I started to cry.

Don't I get a say in my own medical care? Who makes up these "goals" and "status" and makes them concrete- when there is nothing about being in a rehab facility that is concrete.

I do have a voice. I am in more danger trying to find the right bed height to climb out of bed than the benefits of sleeping inches from the floor.

My therapy is starting to wear on me. Who does the same exercises day after day for a month? I am stronger- but I was not able to rush the process.  I am not a machine from which you can demand an instant response. For once in my life, instead of an "A" performance, I've accepted a "B" since I was able to that, without degrading myself.

You see me at my worse because I dislike and don't trust you so I don't preform well for you. You would never understand my story of physical and mental limitations. I am not a cardboard stand-in for a fat person who sits back and doesn't try. I am harder on myself than anyone that I know. Look for the real me- not the one you see failing. I am speaking up and speaking up loudly. _______________________________

#fat people  #physical therapy  #judgement

#feeling hopeless  #danger  # sleeping well
#insomnia  #making things worse