OK, so this episode has subsided. It was one abundant month of suffering and now it is over untl the next time.
I could be grateful, after all, but I can't restrain from wondering one thing: there will ever be one day when I will not feel that being born was an awful deal???
Every day I wake up and think "damn, this crap is true: I'm alive". And it is OK until I'm not actively suffering...
Since my first depressive episode, 13 years ago, I have the opinion that every newborn child had better die in his cradle and never grow to the consciousness of being doomed to pain, fear, maybe a little happiness, and then face his death.
WILL I EVER CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT THIS?
WILL I EVER GET TO THINK IT IS GOOD TO EXIST?