It’s been seemingly forever since I’ve posted. I’ve a few drafts that never managed to get published. I’ve wondered why I can’t seem to find anything to say. To be truthful though, it’s more that I’m embarrassed and ashamed of what I have to say. I’ve been depressed again for the last few months. Some days are ok, but most aren’t. My life continues to go on, but I feel like I’m asleep in the passenger seat or on a ride that nobody else can see full of dark and winding trails. So, there it is. I’ve been fighting it will all of my being and yet I feel somewhat defeated. I feel like I should be doing better. I take my meds consistently; I never miss a dose. I follow the advice and do the things I’ve been taught in therapy when things get bad. I survive. Actually, survive is generous. I exist. I’m baffled by this. I feel like an entitled prick. I have a wonderful marriage, a great job, we just bought a house and aside from a few things, am in good health, yet I have the audacity to be depressed. How dare I? What the hell do I have to be depressed about? Anything bad that’s happened happened long ago. It’s been dealt with and talked to death in therapy.

I don’t really know what else to say. United changed my damn gate again, so I get to go trotting across O’Hare again.

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3 thoughts on “”

  1. “My life continues to go on, but I feel like I’m asleep in the passenger seat or on a ride that nobody else can see full of dark and winding trails.” I feel like this most days, and I really dislike it. It makes me feel like I’m not working hard enough, i should be better with all of my new skills, right?

    “How dare I? What the hell do I have to be depressed about?” One of my biggest triggers is when someone, even myself, ask why I am depressed or feeling depressed. I also return with the question, “Why does someone get cancer?” and it usually stops them.

    I’m glad to see you writing again.

    1. I find myself left asking questions that there aren’t answers to.. kind of like this post. I’d like to think “suck it up” and push on, which I guess most days I do. At the very least I go through the motions enough to work and sustain my livelihood. From experience, the skills only go so far. I’ve previously found that “The truth will set you free” to be a true statement. Telling some other human being how bad the depression gets is a liberating thing. It’s not so much the not feeling alone bit as to just giving the suffering an honest voice. What happens when there’s nothing left to tell except for the same thing? What sets you free then? I’m still searching for that one. Be it chemical or psychological, I’m fighting the good fight, but I’m tired.. So very tired..

      I like your answer – I’d imagine that would shut down that line of questioning in a hurry. I know that some ask the questions because they care and they just don’t know any better. I know some are curious. I know some are compelled to ask even if they don’t really care. The latter expects the canned answers that are short and sweet. I like your answer, though. I may have to borrow that one if ever placed into the position of having to answer the unanswerable again.

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