Here again?

I am enough of a fool to have imagined that I had come through the depression that had plagued me anew for more than a year, after years of having it managed OK. I was, obviously, imagining that to be the case.

I am back here, again.

Why does living seem so relentlessly miserable so much of the time?

Why does everything feel so hopeless so often, just a slog until the moment I am no more in this life?

Why am I so anxious to get there, to be done with the slog?

The Black Dog. The Noonday Demon. The Big Black. It's back. My oldest friend, come to settle in again.