I need to start again. I want to start again. I let depression and anxiety really take it’s toll on me the last six months. It really got at me. It took me so far down and to such dark thoughts that I’m not proud of them and how much I would listen to them. You become enclosed in such a bubble that nothing you do/say/feel is right. The insomnia and ways it would get me in the small things I used to enjoy is horrible. I would notice little signs that depression had got at me one day just by walking round the house. No beds made. Washing up still on the side. Staying underneath a blanket. Just the sheer draining of energy alone was taking up a lot of myself to force myself to be this positive person for everyone to see and my children to be happy about.
I’ve picked up a new bullet journal to start again with. My old one is the old me. The me I really don’t want to have to know again.
Here’s to a new beginning.
The new and improved Rhiannon.