It seems I only write when I am at my lowest. I try to post here steadily, but I can only get at it when I am so down I can hardly breathe. I’ve felt this wave coming on for a couple of days now. I wonder what brought it on. Is it the fact that I abruptly stopped my meds? Is it the fact that I am so alone and the only person I associate and spend time with isn’t the healthiest? Maybe it’s the fact that I still have not found a job. Could it be that I am tired of my current situation? Is it just plain old boredom?

To take things one step further, I feel physically unwell. Maybe my body is taking on the state of my mind.

Nevertheless, be it any of the reasons mentioned above, I am so much more aware of these onslaughts of depression now and how they come and go, yet I still give in. There doesn’t seem to be any fight in me.

At times I feel desperately in need of some compassionate company, company that would reassure me and somehow magically make me feel better. I know that no one holds that power over me. Still, I wish it worked that way. I would go to whomever and ask them to make me feel better and they would and I would feel warm and safe. Warm, that’s the word. That’s what I lack. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Hiding under my blanket, I can clearly hear the silence. The tv, loud as it is, is drowned out by the silence.  Nothingness. Nothing to do. Nothing to say. Nothing to wait for or look forward to.

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