Darkness doesn't exist. It's the absence of light.
So when I feel this grey envelop me, I feel unworthy of it. Like it is making me not exist, too. And that's true, a little bit. At this point, I'm here, living just on the edge of my life. I feel better than I did, and the taste has spurred me on to even greater improvements. Thanks for the virtual rub on the back I felt from comments on my last post about this. I have in fact received a diagnosis of garden variety depression. I'm treating this the same as I would a middle ear infection. Because depression is normal like that. Normal people get it. To recover, I have to modify things around my symptoms a little, follow a course of medication, and put some measures in place to ensure my whole health. Just like any other illness, right?
I am not deluded enough to be on the search for 'happiness' (whatever that is). I don't believe that happiness is a condition, the opposite condition of depression. I think that depression is poorly named. It should be called something else, something that indicates the temporary loss of ability to cope with the difficult or stressful situations. Because it is temporary (with treatment). I can already feel my treatment working. I'm sleeping a little better, the nightmares and daymares are much less frequent, I'm not as snappy and wound up. I'm excited to do stuff. I'm also exhausted at the end of a day or an outing. Faking it 'til I make it is taking it out of me! Anxiety still has a strong grip- I bailed on a night out with some lovely ladies because I just couldn't. But not as often.
There is no point to writing this today, other than to put a marker in time, to remember how I was feeling at this point, to say, things progress and the river carries me forward.