Depression in Remission

I posted the intention to free myself from depression back in March of this year. I wouldn't say I'm "cured" - partly out of understanding of the nature of depression and partly out of superstition that as soon as I commit to believing I'm cured, it'll flare up again just to show me how wrong I was - but I can definitely say at this point that I'm in remission. I've become much more proactive in dealing with the world. I'm working past my habitual laziness that contributed to my depression. I'm training myself in how to notice when the fog begins to descend, and developing coping strategies to either fend it off or batten down the hatches and let it blow over without doing too much damage.

I guess my biggest benchmark for considering myself in remission is that I'm *functional*. It used to be, during the darkest phases, that I could barely drag myself out of bed. If I could do that much, that was usually all I could do - I couldn't drag myself out of the house most days, I avoided people as much as possible, and hid away from everything. I failed classes and left the grocery shopping undone for weeks. I showered once a week if that, never dressed neatly, didn't really bother looking for a job although I was broke. Now? Now I get up every morning and out of bed. I shower every other day. I dress nicely and do my hair when I go out. I do the housework I feel needs to get done (okay, not as much as needs done, but it's a start!), and I run errands promptly when they need run. I'm actively searching for a job. I'm interacting with people and trying to stay in contact/get back in contact with people that I care about. I have random bouts of happiness where all I can think about is how beautiful the world is - even though I'm terribly homesick for my redwoods and my ocean, my kitten is so adorable I could cry and our older cat can purr so that you hear her across the room when she wants your attention, and sometimes the breeze picks up enough that I can feel it in my hair, and my kalanchoe is blooming in brilliant purple flowers and I have so many lovely things arranged around my desk that make me smile. And there's "stupid puppy" (her name is Angel, but she acts like she was dropped on her head as a puppy, so we all call her stupid puppy. No meanness in it, just loving teasing) who still, even though she's 8 months old and 40 lbs or so now, will still jump into my lap and let me roll her over on her back and play with her just like she loved to do when she was small enough to fit in my cupped hands, although the play is rougher and more energetic now and requires all my puppy-wrangling skills to keep from getting teeth to the face (accidentally, she's not trying to hurt me, but she's so exuberant!).

Just the fact that I CAN look around at the world and see these wonderful things now, is a testament to how far I've come. And I thank you all so much for sending your energy to this, to me, because I can feel that that's been a factor in lifting me out of that dark place.