I'll tell you my conception of my "black goo" some other time -- but briefly, I've had it since early high school (when I first started dealing with depression), and the best way I've found to characterize the feeling is by comparing it to the last episode of the first season of Star Trek: Next Generation, when Yar gets eaten by this spreading, malevolently depressed, sentient black goo. I see it as a black rubber ball that sits parked in the pit of my stomach till something irritates it, at which time it starts spreading upward, trying to choke me. That's about where I am now -- choking on the goo.

But Wants2Fly, I had to laugh when I saw your line saying sorry things look black right now -- which is EXACTLY how they look -- but, being an 80s girl, it immediately put me in mind of an old, bad Clash song from my high school days, "Should I Stay or Should I Go." I loved the Clash, but that was one of their worst songs, so of course it got the most airplay. There's a line, "One day it's fine and next it's black..." LOL welcome to my life! (My pdoc has been suggesting that maybe I'm really bipolar II -- he might be on to something!)

I am just SO TIRED of being stressed out over money. People at work are trying to help, because the one person I confided in is a blabbermouth, and while I'm grateful, I hate being an object of pity. I hate having been looking for a part-time job since June, and not being deemed worthy to be hired. I hate that nobody really knows what my life is really like and just how bad things really are, not even my therapist, who I tell everything. I hate myself for having gotten myself in this position in the first place.

Oh, whine whine whine. Sorry! Thanks for the hugs.

Candy