I have gotten fairly accomplished at fooling myself. It's not my only downfall, but it is one of my worst. I start to feel better with help from antidepressants and positive encounters with people, and then ... it takes so little to knock me out of balance. No resilience at all. No quick recovery. One bad encounter, and I'm back in the hole. Just that quick.Why was I born? Why am I here? I do not feel I belong here, in this world, in this life. I feel utterly incapable of managing even the least social interaction.
I feel the hatred. In me, in others toward me. I feel no defense for it. I deserve it. I know I deserve it. I know what I am. I just can't escape it, not without taking the step I just can't take. Not any more. I've failed at suicide in the past, and the weird thing about such failure is it feeds the depression even more. "See? One more thing I can't do, and it's the only thing I want to do."
How did I get from feeling OK this morning to wanting to die, yet again, for the umpteen-millionth time? A mild critique—very mild—from a good friend. The kind of thing a healthy person would accept and apologize for. Instead, I apologize ... on my way down. Free fall.
And the darkness just eats me up. It is quiet here. There is a kind of peace, even, in depression's misery.
0 comments:
Post a Comment