Woke up at 7:30 a.m. Taking Seroquel 50 mg in the eve seems to be allowing me to fall asleep and mostly stay asleep through the night. That's my escape from this horribleness.

But I wake and it starts again. In the last 3+ hours, I've made that trip again to the valley of hopelessness. Watching a good show on PBS distracted me enough to stay sort of calm. But now it's bad.

So I took my morning dose of Vicodin (hydrocodone 10 mg.) I try to hold off because, the later I take it, the later in the day I'll have the benefit of it. I wasn't terribly sore yet, physically . . . but the mental thing was getting horrid. I also added a Ritalin 20 mg tablet to the Vicodin. I haven't taken a Ritalin in a few days. In recent months I've used the Ritalin only sporadically. (It's counterproductive, depending on the context of the day.) But I've taken it, now, because depression got extreme.

I started to weep in a way that I call hysterical. This is not mainly grief. It is mainly depression.

It's 30 minutes since taking those 2 tablets. The "hysterics" have stopped. I'm still and breathing normally.

While so upset, I was thinking that I have to tell someone that I can't cope with this. I think of who to tell. Haven't figured that out.

I call what I just went through "agony." That seems like foolish exaggeration when I think of the awful torments that humans go through. Nothing in my life is really so terrible. I guess I expect life to be easier than how life is.