I didn't really want to mention it but the depression that I talked about some time ago never did leave me. It simmered beneath the surface all along and in the last few days it has become more active again. I find it very difficult to be cheerful and to have hope and my thoughts are mostly rather morose.
It's to the point now that I'm not happy to be alive and that I wish for a way out. Unfortunately, I don't know of an easy way to do that. I have tried not to be alive in the past numerous times and failed. I won't be so foolish as to try those methods again. All I can hope is that the depression will leave me and that I will see the sense of living again.
I did see my therapist this afternoon and was able to unload some of my mind but it did not feel like a relief. I felt like I could have sat there for hours and cried uncontrollably for all of them. That's how much of a load I'm carrying with me. It's all old grief and contrary to what I claimed yesterday, it seems that I do walk around with a lot of sadness from the past. I have many regrets and feel much guilt.
It was three weeks since I saw my therapist and that was too much time. I walked around with these feelings on my own and did not try to contact her or my psychiatrist. It's as though I have to grit my teeth and bear them. As if it is my fate in life that I have them. It doesn't dawn on me to reach out for help. It's like I have to relearn that every time.
I'm sitting here now with my second cup of coffee and my cigarettes and I feel like I've got a hangover. Or like I've done something really bad. Like I've betrayed the cause. The cause is keeping up appearances and not letting anyone know how bad life has been. Or how bad it still is.
I suppose everybody involved has their excuses and that's how we keep the chain intact. Nobody is willing or able to accept the responsibility. I take it all on myself. I'm tired of playing my role and I'm not going to do it anymore. I'll not be the black sheep and the sacrificial lamb.