22 years ago I was hospitalized on my 17th birthday for suicide plans. I have had ups and downs since then. I have had hundreds of wonderful times, hundreds of bad times...and 22 years later I am no better. I am in my basement crying. I guess I keep hoping this will be like a papercut and will heal over and be gone for good.

I was so good for about 6-7 months after dx and then the past 6 months have been awful. I just can't seem to feel better. I'm trying to remember if I am worse than before dx when I was only on Prozac but I can't remember. I just remember the past 3 years being angry and using pills and alcohol to cope. At least I don't do that anymore so that is a plus!

Sometimes it just feels like I am trapped in a glass box (a bell jar and watching everyone else yet unable to participate. No one even really knows how much I struggle. My husband knows when I am moody, but doesn't really understand. I work nights so use that as an excuse for leaving social events early or not going at all so my life seems just peachy keen on the outside.

Sorry to write a book but since I don't keep a journal my posts help me remember what is going on in my life