I think I have suffered from depression so long that I don’t remember what haapy feels like.  What it feels like to get excited over something.  To want to hang out with friends and actually have a good time. 

I thought my meds had finally made it so I didn’t want to kill myself anymore, and that I was actually starting to feel a little good. 

I should have know that it wouldn’t last.  Everyday is a struggle, everyday I fight this damned depression, everyday I force myself to get out of bed. 

Things that should be making me happy are not.  It’s like a front I put on for others.  I think if other people knew how truly miserable I was they wouldn’t believe it or think that I was just feeling sorry for myself. 

My question to them is, why?  Why would anyone in their right minds choose to feel this way?  I’ve had people tell me to just make the choice to be happy.  I would like to slap them.  If it was that fucking easy don’t you think I would have done it already. 

Why would I spend my hard earned (and scarce) money on psych drugs and counselors if I could just wish myself happy. 

I actually had one friend tell me that if I found jesus all would be well with my world.  Joy would just come to me.  No offense to religious people out there, but I truly don’t think that is the way for me to go. 

I belonged to AA for 3 yrs and had spirituality shoved at me left & right.  Yes, I think AA saved my life as far as my drug addiction went, but when I was able to stand on my own 2 feet (or so I thought)  I quit going & that was the main reason. 

Okay, I’m going off on a tangent here.  That was not my intention.  I am just so tired, mentaly, emotionally and physically.  I don’t even know what I am babbling on about anymore.  

I don’t know, I think I have made some progress…I went from saying I want to kill myself to I want to die.  There is a difference.