I’ve been fighting this depression for so long. Well since I was 11, so that’s what 18 years. The prospect of having to fight this for 18 more years is more than I can handle. The funny thing is though, I don’t feel like trying to get better. Just about every thing that used to get me through the days, doesn’t matter anymore. I have a counseling appointment tomorrow. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go back. I know I’m not going to get better, so what’s the point? Nothing’s comforting, nothing takes the edge off anymore. I used to habitually say I’m scared. I think for one of the first times in my life, I can say I’m no longer scared. Saying that makes me feel uneasy.
I try to find things in my life that I need to live for. Paying bills. Taking care of my dog. My dog is getting closer to my husband. She no longer needs me. I guess the only thing keeping me going is bills. I’m sure that husband could sell the house and not have to worry about money. But I’ll keep it there just to keep one thing on the list, even though I don’t believe it.
Days are getting harder and harder for me to get through. This isn’t just a small passing depression. This isn’t just someone looking for attention. This is being so depressed eating is unenjoyable. This is being so depressed that on a scale of 1-10, the pain wouldn’t even register. Most people don’t get it. Just snap out of it, they say. Just trust God more. Just, this… just, that. I’m a complete failure. I’ve learned to accept that; apparently others don’t so easily. It’s easier to tell me all the things I’m supposedly doing wrong then it is to listen to me, and try to comprehend the pain I’m in. I know most people won’t get the feelings, but dang, at least try. I’m glad all you had your moment and figured out the exact time you believed in God. I did too; that’s why despite the immense emotional pain I go through and the constant fight with tears, that I survive.
I still have to write a letter to my counselor. I have no clue what to say to him. How to convey the intense feelings I go through to him when I can’t even figure them out myself. I don’t know much of anything anymore it seems.