The past two weeks have been tough. So tough I found myself writing to my psychiatrist and him phoning me to check I was actually still alive - I haven't been to an appointment in a while. Somehow depression has found me; this is not a few bad days or an emo cutting-crazed fortnight; this is depression. This is laying on my bed for hours not conscious of anything around me. This is bursting into tears anywhere, anytime, anyplace. This is methodical self harm. This is niki not going to college regularly, and not being there when she does. This is despair.
When I am really depressed I will not text, will not call - will not make any voluntary contact with the outside world. When I am depressed I conceed that I still need that medication and I take it desperately needing it to work. When I am depressed even obsessive compulsive whatdoyoucallit pales into the background. When I am depressed there is nothing on my mind; it is full and it is painful but I cannot see what it is. When I am depressed I am neither relaxed nor tense but caught in some superficial net.
I do not want sympathy. I do not want to be judged. I do not want a hug. I do not want to be.