Does anyone else:

look around at the things that surround us - children, spouse, home, job, garden, rain, sun, having a T or pdoc, anything that we could use to reason our good fortune or the infamous "what I have to be happy for"- and see nothing but painful reminders of what we can't enjoy because of this hell-born depression?

I have a little book I use to help me stay focused or help to remind me of what I do have to be greatful for, even the flowers in the garden, little snippets of words of wisdom from T and friends - it doesn't make me angry to look at it today. Sometimes, when I'm depressed, it makes me angry. But, today, this evening, it just makes me sadder.

There seems to be no connection between reason and depression. I feel completely empty - "like a house with all the children gone. No. Even emptier than that." Sadness and emptiness and the pit don't begin to describle how I'm feeling.

Suicide isn't even an option. There would be no point.

I am a lifeless puddle of goo, dehydrated by life, and blowing away in the breeze . . . . . .

SongBird