Locks

Lately, being depressed and anxious is like having thousands of critical voices muttering loudly in every room of my mind. Their volume increases when I'm around other people, shouting that every eye is watching, every thought is judging, that in every way I am found lacking.

They've driven me to tears.

They've forced me to avoid all social events.

They've become so loud that I was sure that what they said was the truth.

But now I'm on medicine again, and it's as if every day I lock a few critical voices into a deep, dark corner of my brain where they can still be heard {faintly} but ignored. Suddenly, what they say sounds a little less credible.

I bought a dress {I do have a waist!}.

I went to Sacrament Meeting.

I'm feeling brave.

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