There is a battle being waged in my body and mind right now. I wish it was as simple as white blood cells battling infection. I wish it was something that could be helped, allayed, or – cod forbid – cured using something I could purchase for four dollars over the counter.
It’s intense to look at how far I’ve come and, in one overall insignificant event, feel the backslide to where I started.
For those who may be worried, I still have that pharmacological plank holding me at a 4. It’s this plank that has me fighting the battle. It’s this plank that has me writing about my mental and emotional state. It’s this plank that has me talking to friends. It’s this plank that has me saying, both internally, audibly, and using the written word, that I’m not okay right now. I’m not okay in this moment.
I guess there’s not too much more that can be said.
Other than this.
Whether with my friends or with myself, I’m so fucking over having to have this conversation.
Waiting For That Rocket 
Depression is like looking into the Palantir. Every one of the things that it shows you are twisted & warped so that the beauty & good & hope are drawn out of them. It creates mirages and lies, and it’s -really- good at doing it. In the end though, it’s -your- seeing stone. You have the right to hold it & shape it & tell it what to see, no matter what it wants to try to show you. I’ve been there and I get it, and I’m pulling for you.
By: Harry - Flotsam Diaries on February 7, 2013
at 11:22 am
Thanks, Harry. I definitely appreciate the poetic way you put that :)
By: waitingforthatrocket on February 7, 2013
at 12:38 pm
My tagline should be: “Making things suck on a totally different plane”
By: Harry - Flotsam Diaries on February 7, 2013
at 1:38 pm
Maybe, “Making things suck a little less on a completely better plane.” :)
By: waitingforthatrocket on February 7, 2013
at 1:59 pm