I may have discovered why I’m holding onto my depression yesterday, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still here.
I’ve never felt so guilty for having depression before. It’s kind of like I chose it this time, because I knew it would happen if I didn’t get out of bed one day. And I didn’t get out of bed that day.
I’ve tried everything I can think of. And all I seem to be able to do is hide away in my bed away from the world, away from the pain. I’m so scared to face the day each morning because I know exactly what it brings.
I never understood just how much strength it takes to face a day full of nothingness. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have someone depend on me to help out with life. And now, I feel as though I’m not up to the challenge. I thought I was getting better, I thought I could live a life, but I’m hiding from it.
I want so badly to get up each morning with a smile on my face and to have productive days, but I don’t know how to make that possible. I don’t see the end of this.