How I Rose From The Abyss
By Summer 2016, Depression Had All But Destroyed Me. I Never Gave Up. This Is My Story.
I’ve just woken up and can see the sunlight dipping below my window shade. My pillow is soaked with sweat, my sheets are halfway off the bed and I’m practically laying on top of my dog, Ringo, who insists on sleeping right next to me every single night. The stillness of my room is peaceful, but all I can think about is how horrible I feel and how much I wish I could just go back to sleep. I roll over onto my back and a twinge of pain runs through my spine. I can’t tell if it’s because of my chronic back issues or simply a byproduct of lying on an old mattress for too long. Whatever it is, I realize I have no choice but to finally get up or risk even worse pain later.
Ringo, a small pug, gets the hint that it’s time to get out of bed and he begins his normal routine of spinning around in circles — he’s excited at the prospect of finally emptying his bowels in just a few short moments. As he jumps off the bed, I sit up and take a look at the digital alarm clock that watches over me from the other side of my room.
It’s 3:45pm. I think it’s Tuesday, but for all I know, it could be Thursday.
3:45. I woke up at 3:45 in the afternoon. Jesus Christ, Greg. What happened to you?
