It's not that I am feeling "better" today--in fact, I have what I'll call an emotional hangover. All this stress and bad feelings have settled into my muscle tissue. I am achey and stiff with horrible headache.
But I am feeling more desirous of life.
My survival instincts have kicked into gear. The desire to just lay down and die is fading back to the levels where I was a week ago. On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is suicide, I am back to a 4.
Last night, I was at like an 8. It's pretty scary.
It's weird and a little embarrassing writing about all of this. People do read this after all. You are all strangers, but I still don't like being this open in front of anyone.
Nonetheless, I am committed to documenting my struggle. It's important.
I hope to someday document my recovery as well.
Today I am going to get some joy. I don't know how or where, but I am going to find something that makes me smile.
My depression does not control me.
My depression is not me.
I am worthy of love.
I am strong.
I deserve happiness.
I matter.
I will say that again and again and again and again.
6:54 a.m. - 2014-06-06
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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