I have some small victories to report. I took a shower. I made myself eggs. I called my case manager. I worked really hard at finding some pride in those small things. I haven't showed in a few days---been unbearably depressed. I haven't made a meal in days. Only eating when I could drag myself to fast food (once in three days---that's all I ate too). Been shut off. I tried to find pleasure in those victories too---the water felt good, the eggs were homemade, I reached out for help. But all those victories are laced with fear.

What if it isn't enough for my mom who is just beginning to recognize the depth of my illness? I want to be able to clean up the house and help her while I sit at home all day and she works. My depression paralyzes me and I hate myself for that.

My sleep cycle is way out of control and that's why I called my case manager, to talk to my dr, to find some relief. But after talking to him, what if he can't get the answers I need before another long sleepless night?

My head is spinning with all these doubts and fears and trying to see the good as simple as it is. I want to do more, help my mom, take control, but I am afraid I'll just get manic and crash down deeper. I am so scared and my head is so tired.

For today, I am going to just try to keep moving. Slow. But moving. And maybe that's all I can do?