I desperately want to be strong. I desperately want to bear this pain with dignity. Why then do i act like such a victim? Why do i give up so easily? Why is the very thought of being strong quickly followed by fear? I imagine what i could be but then i get caught up in the depression reality...which is my reality, for better or worse. I thought resting, hiding, stopping would help me regain my strength...but in actual fact i've hidden for so long i've got no life left, and i STILL have no strength to live one, let alone re-start it! I should have just maintained the last one, however bad. But i couldn't....i'll give myself that one concession in the tirade of guilt/yelling in my brain. I desperately want to have a 'phoenix out of the ashes' style transformation, rather than feeling like a snail - small, insignificant and slow. Is that egotistical or just plain desperate?