major depressive disorder | It's Me Laura Lee

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I was in deep.  And, I was falling deeper.  I was Alice – falling down the rabbit hole and watching everything as it passed me by.  Except, my rabbit hole wasn’t fanciful, it was dark.  The dong of the clock bellowed and echoed between my ears.  The mirror reflected back to me an image I did not recognize, and yet it cried when I cried.  It was angry when I was angry.  Falling through the center of the earth was something I longed for.  It was a way out without having to be the one responsible for the path.

I was in deep.  And, I was falling deeper.  I was Alice – falling down the rabbit hole and watching everything as it passed me by.  Except, my rabbit hole wasn’t fanciful, it was dark.  The dong of the clock bellowed and echoed between my ears.  The mirror reflected back to me an image I did not recognize, and yet it cried when I cried.  It was angry when I was angry.  Falling through the center of the earth was something I longed for.  It was a way out without having to be the one responsible for the path.

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Laura Lee, 52, with invisible wounds and scars.  I've learned to embrace PTSD and depression because if I don't own them, they'll own me.  I don't want to simply survive, but to thrive.  I hope you'll join me on my journey.  It's sure to be a bumpy road.

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