A Guest Blogger Post

Because I miss the library world so much I searched for some blogs written by librarians.  I ran across http://lifelovelibrarianship.com/ 
written by Lizy, who I think is a talented writer and interesting person.  Though I have never met her personally I can feel her kindness and goodness in her posts. That is why I read her blog.  She provided this bio: Lizy is a single girl blogging her way through life, sharing recipes, adventures, and pictures along the way. She is a solo librarian, loves books and cats, and spends an unhealthy amount of time on Twitter  and gave me her permission to repost an excellent piece she wrote on her blog called Drowning.  I wanted to repost it here, with her permission, because it is just so beautifully written and those of us who suffer with depression can so totally relate.  I wanted to repost it here because it is so important for those of us who can relate to know that we are not alone.  If you don't suffer with depression this is an insight into our world:
Drowning

by Elizabeth on January 22, 2012 ·
Do you ever have days where you feel like you’re about to drown? You’re just treading water, doing everything you can to keep that next wave from pulling you down? Ever have whole weeks like that? Months?

 I do. I’m there right now. Just trying to keep my head above water; trying to keep myself from going under. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…

There’s only so much you can do on days when your biggest accomplishment was making it through the day without falling apart. When it takes everything you have to get out of bed in the morning. To get dressed. To work. To talk to friends. To write. To keep up the appearance that everything is fine. To keep everyone from noticing that you’re slipping down that dark hole again.


Luckily, there’s light at the other end of that hole. It’s not always easy to see, but every once and while, I get a glimpse of life on the other side. Where it doesn’t hurt. Where there is laughter and sunshine and happiness.

It’s fleeting; only there for a few minutes or a few hours. Then the hole begins to close, the water begins to creep back up over my head. And I’m back down in the dark. Wondering when I’ll see the light again.

Thank you for letting me share your post, Lizy.  I don't know why it is comforting to know that someone else feels this way.  I certainly don't WANT Lizy (or me, or anyone else) to feel this way but reading this touching post made me think three things 1) She has been a "fly on the wall" in my mind, living my life with me! 2) I'm sorry she knows how this feels, and I wish I could take it away from her, but I am glad she can express it so eloquently and 3) I just want to shout "Look! Read this! Feel what it is like! I am NOT crazy....in the depression world I am NORMAL, and because Lizy is normal and can function and can hang in there that means I can too!!!