OK, enough skirmish. In the 3rd week depressive demons are coming close. I'm besieged by anguish, lurking in every fold of reality.
I don't like it: this was too near, I always was in depressive episode 15% of the year, now in 2007 it is well doubled. I'm worried.
I see everything in the perspective of my death. I feel as if everything is going to faint at any moment. I'm not "with both my feet in reality". I feel like floating, about to wake up from a nightmare, but the nightmare IS my life.
It feels like a nasty joke, one of those tha are not funny.
I can't value anything. Being good, gentle, generous, courageous is futile. Loving, caring, helping are irrelevant and unimportant.
I'm on a sinking ship... WHAT is important? Not even feeling good is worth. It just means to be able to suffer more blows, to have even more bitter disappointment when a new crisis will come.
Yet the pain is REAL.
So here I stay, waiting. Cursing the day when my parents met. Tomorrow I'm calling the pdoc. He may work out something from this situation.
Thank you for listening my rant. I feel that even simpathy and support are perfectly meaning less now, but I thank you anyway. Sorry for the bitterness.
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