everyone says the feeling of wanting to just not be is the depression. i can't possibly just want to not exist. i hate that. i hate having the uncomfortable thoughts and actions just brushed off as being the disease. i have the doubt that creeps in then wondering which thoughts are mine. maybe even my happiness is not my own, maybe it belongs to mania.
do you know why i don't buy it fully? because even on days when i am happy, if death were as simply as an easy button, i'd still hit it. i know it may get better. odds say that it has to be some good times in the next future. odds say there have to be some dark times. odds say a different combo of meds will bring some partial relief.
i'm just too tired to enjoy it. like a kid who ate too much candy before her birthday party and now can't eat the cake. except my candy tasted like liverwurst.
i did what people asked. i played by the rules. i'm not asking to cheat at the game. i just don't want to play the game any more. and with no real obligations why should i? [it's a rhetorical statement].
No comments:
Post a Comment