That’s the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it’s impossible to ever see the end.
“Prozac Nation”, Elizabeth Wurtzel
It’s autumn. It used to be my favourite season, what with the colourful leaves and gusts of strong wind and that melancholy rain drumming on my window sill for days on end. However, the older I get the more I dread the end of summer, as I become a lot more prone to depression when it’s cold and dark outside. I used to be angsty and tormented and oh so deep all the damn time and I really don’t care to go back to that state. I want to be creative without having the urge to slit my wrists open with a nail file, godsdamnit!
I want to be left alone but I hate feeling lonely. I don’t want to do anything but I fear boredom. I get hungry but food is tasteless and wants to come right back up… I think it shows clearly that I just can’t win.
Guess what was the first thing I did when I woke up yesterday? Those of you who placed their bets on ‘cried for no reason at all’ may collect their winnings now. So maybe I really should make that appointment with a specialist who can prescribe me some nice Fukitol pills and lie to me convincingly enough that it’s going to be all right in the end…