Sometimes not even you - it can even convince you that you're not real.
Depression is seriously the most persuasive demon.
But I've realised something, and it's become sort of my sword against the demon:
I'm more real than it.
I am me. I am Aubrey Danae Pacheco.
I love making my dinner while pretending I'm hosting a cooking show.
I get super excited when I see a dog out in public.
In elementary school id draw myself wearing pigtails and crop tops with bell bottoms even though I've never worn an outfit like that in my entire life.
Sometimes I read scary stories late at night even though I know I'll freak out when I hear a noise in the hall.
I have great friends and an absolutely amazing family.
I am supported. I am appreciated. I am loved.
Even without these things I am real. I am a single human in this universe on my own journey and I am real.
So is my depression. It's very real to me, but it will never be more real than me.
This is MY life, not its.
I am more real than it.
. . .
I wrote this a few days ago after a particularly shitty episode - after speaking to my brother and really getting a chance to say things out loud, I had a little epiphany:
I've always been pretty open about depression and all that, but part of me has been so against really showing everything, and I've realised why lately - I love that people think of me as this bubbly and positive person, so I was scared to show anything that would ever change that view of me. I strive to be a very positive and happy person, and for the most part I am, but that doesn't mean I can't have lows y'know? I define myself, not my depression, and I am a happy & positive person who has learnt to be that way because of those shitty moments, and that's not something I want to hide.