I am so depressed, so wholly and completely dejected, it frightens me.  It’s palpable.  I can’t escape it.  I’m totally encased and entwined in it, no matter which way I turn, how I try to avoid it or what I try to do to overcome.  I’m trapped, imprisoned, stopped dead in my tracks.  Can’t make a move.  Can’t take a step.  It weighs me down and holds me in place like a massive anchor attached to my leg.  It’s utterly terrifying.  I’m fighting an invisible enemy that is everywhere at once, that anticipates my every move and encapsulates and penetrates my every thought.  Where am I to turn to find relief?  How am I to ever have hope or happiness?

I’ve tried all the antidepressants and I’ve tried them in massive doses over long periods of time several times.  They don’t work for me.  I wish they did.  The only thing they do is cause severe vertigo after I’ve been on them for some time and once I stop taking them, it takes quite awhile for the vertigo to go away.  I want something to make me better, but nothing seems to help.  No magic pill for me. That’s the scariest part.   Nothing I do or try seems to dent this impenetrable, unrelenting, bottomless ocean of despair. I’m drowning in it…and it’s petrifying.

I’m doing the counseling thing too.  Have been going for years.  No relief.  Just despair.  Still waiting for a breakthrough that I fear will never come.  But if I stop going, stop trying, I’m doomed.  I have to do SOMETHING!

I want so badly to be a whole, normal person.  I want to be worth loving, to have qualities that are redeeming.  I want to have value, worth.  I want to be wanted.  But in my present state, I seriously doubt there is anything about me that is worth caring about.  I’m so afraid the bad overwhelmingly outweighs the good.  I’m terrified I’m destined to always be alone and disregarded.  Undesired and undesirable. Isolated and despondent.

I’ve tried to talk to myself to get out of this horrid pit.  I’ve tried to be strong, to ignore it, to outrun it, to face it, to tell it to go the hell away…I’ve tried everything…absolutely everything…that I can think of.  Nothing has worked yet.  Nothing has made any difference.  I’m still drowning.  It’s disturbing.  And it hurts.  Badly.

Is there any hope?  I don’t know.  Don’t really believe there is.  But if I quit, then I know there isn’t any, so I keep plugging away as best I can.  I struggle just to take one step forward into each day.  I struggle each and every day to get out of bed, to make myself go to work, to make myself do even one thing that I’m supposed to do, that a “normal” person would do easily.  I take out the trash.  I get gas for my car.  I try to make myself go to church.  Fail more than I succeed, but I keep trying.  I do the laundry.  I load the dishwasher.  I change the sheets.  I take a shower.  Hard stuff when every single step is a battle.  I keep going to therapy.  I take care of my dog.  Get the mail.  And then there are the things I don’t do.  I don’t clean my house very well. Don’t socialize.  I don’t do hundreds of things I should.  But I do the very best I can with this anchor of depression wound around and around and around me.  I hate that I’m the way I am.  I hope someday I’ll be better, even though I have pretty much lost all hope.  I may be a corpse.  But I keep…on…walking…one lonely painful step at a time.  All I can do is all I can do.  And hope the little I can do will somehow…be…enough.

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