I've come to realize something. The depression is always there. Just under the surface, waiting for a moment of weakness to rear its ugly head. I've been strong, pushing it back down, smothering it. But it's always there. Sometimes . . .it threatens to take over, to consume me in the spiral. I don't let it . . .but it's hard. I've never had to fight the depression as much as I am right now, with this bout. It's tiring and I often feel like I'm losing hope.
But still . . .I fight. For my son. For my husband. For me.
I don't understand why this bout of depression is different. I don't. I've gone through it before. But it's never been this bad. It's never lasted this long. I've never come close to killing myself, like I did 3 weeks ago. What's different this time?
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