I'm now that weird chick that cleans her kitchen floor on a Saturday afternoon. That weird chick that everyone thinks is OCD or going through a bad breakup. Newsflash: that weird chick is cleaning her kitchen floor for her own safety. Think about it.

I have been reading through some random talks online tonight, and I cam across one by Steve Gilliland. It's called "Awake My Soul!": Dealing Firmly with Depression.

As I read through this talk, I noticed that it had a lot of interesting points to make. However, one in particular stuck out to me.

"At bedtime, you can’t sleep. In the morning, you can’t wake up. Dishes, laundry, cleaning go undone. You feel helpless, hopeless, sad. For weeks, months, or even years nothing seems to go right. You feel like a burden to your family. You cry uncontrollably over little things.

You blame yourself for being unhappy... You stay home more. Your favorite activities go flat—it’s been a long time since you went for a walk, skied, or played the piano.

You are depressed, and you don’t know what to do about it. Worse, because the gospel promises happinesses, you feel terribly guilty."

I feel like those few sentences describe perfectly the words that I have not been able to get across to anyone. I feel as if I had been searching for those words for a long time. It's as if someone understands. That's all.