I turn myself inside out to impress friends that I don’t even talk to. I publish written words and photos that make my life look like a charmed fairy tale, meanwhile inside I feel as though I am dying. 



You know the ups and downs are coming, they are as inevitable as the ebb and flow of the ocean tides. The problem is, you can never see them coming.


The highs are the worst.

When you think of how a person with depression might suffer the most, that is probably not what would come to mind. But to be honest, I hate the best moods the most.

I get used to the darkness. I get used to the numbness, the feelings of worthlessness and hatred toward myself.

The one thing I can never prepare myself for is the joy. I love experiencing that joy, and those moments of light, where everything in the world just seems right. I love them, almost as much as I hate them.

I hate those wonderful moments, simply because I know they will never last.

I know I never get to be that person forever, and often, I would rather that I just NEVER knew that joy, because then in my deepest struggles, I wouldn’t know what I am missing.

I wish I was ignorant to the pure, unadulterated bliss that comes from that happiness, that I assume so many people get to experience on the regular. I think, if I didn’t have an idea of how that felt, then the sadness, and numbness, and hate that fills my body most days just might not hurt quite so much.

The back to back days are the worst. The last two days have been great. I was able to spend some time with wonderful people, and enjoy one of my favorite past times. But even toward the end of last night, I could feel the darkness pushing through my light. I went to be filled with dread.

I’m glad I am alone in my office today. I’ve had several moments where I have done nothing but sob uncontrollably, and another couple moments where it seemed like if I could just break skin with a pair of scissors, maybe I might feel better.

I settled on eating 3 cookies in an attempt to dull the pain, and then just felt worse about myself, since then I got to be fat AND sad.

I feel as though this is a never-ending roller coaster. Even when I find a medication that works, it only buys me a few months before I am right back where I started.

To make things even more difficult, I am just not one to reach out to tell people about my mental and emotional issues, which makes approaching my doctor even more difficult.

I just feel like I am reaching an impasse…and I don’t know how to move forward from here.