I'm not much of a blogger because I can't seem to stick with anything.  Hoping that that will all change, but who knows.  Maybe that is just who I am. 

Needless to say I am still having problems accepting this whole depression thing.  I wonder if at times it has actually brought more grief to my life and those around me to accept that this is the proper diagnosis.  I have begun to accept that I have such a feeling of hopelessness.  I certainly don't want to do that.  I have been taught to be a fighter all of my life.  But I have begun to question when is enough enough?  When do I just give up?  Or have I given up already?

In spite of fighting for everything that I have, I live in a world of chaos.  Is this normal?  Is this what I am supposed to do?  Is this what life is all about?  And finally…if this IS what it is all about, why can't I seem to handle it like the rest of the world?  What makes me different?

On one hand I think, I want someone to come and take care of ME.  To fix everything and tell me that it is going to be all right.  But on the other hand I think, what have I done to deserve that kind of a luxury. 

When I look back and see all these thoughts running through my head, I try to reassure myself that at some point the meds will kick in and that will make all the thoughts stop.  But will it?  I don't know what is normal, what will the meds help and what do I have to accept and fix for myself? 

 I have seen references to depression being called "The Black Dog".  I can definitely understand the reference.  I have had this dog laying around in the corner, occasionally it wants to be let out and I have willingly obliged.  But now it wants to go outside constantly.  But why?  You just went outside 5 minutes ago.  Here…go chase a ball…go chew on a bone…just go.  But it keeps bringing the damn ball back to me wanting to play fetch.  I try to lock it in its kennel, but it whines and howls.  Now it is starting to bark!  JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!  What happened to the days where I could just pet you and you'd curl up around my feet and be satisfied? 

My sense of reponsibility is the only thing that keeps me here right now.  If I didn't have this nagging sense of responsibility I could just so easily run away.  Run away from it all.  It is so sad…my husband, my children, my job.  Emotionally, I think I could give it all up.  But I feel responsible and that is why I don't.  It isn't because of love, I'm not sure if I am capable of love anymore. 

Ugh!  I vowed that I was going to write and not delete this blog.  But I hate to see what I have written.  It is so wrong for me to have feeling like this and once I have said it out loud or written it down it becomes true.  I don't want these feelings to be true.  This is not who I want to be.  I need to stop for now and walk away…do something else.  If you get  a chance to read this blog…please don't remember it.  I'm sure that I will come back in a few days and delete it.