I feel so foolish for sharing my feelings sometimes. I don't know why I bother. I should know better. I guess you could say that my doing so is a cry for help. But it's not like I'm looking for pity. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I just want someone to understand, to relate.
I was rereading my blog post from June 28th, entitled 'sadness', and I feel exactly as I did then. And with every cycle, every depression I go through, it is always the same. The reasons almost never change. But the intensity of my feelings do get stronger. They get worse. I've been through 6 years of this crap so far, and every depressive episode is worse than the last. I know some people think that I like being sad. But I really do not think this is true. I want and need relief. I'd give anything to make this stop. Because even if I make it out alive through this depressive episode, it is only a matter of weeks or a couple months before I will be right back here. Only I am sure next time will be worse. It always is.
Sadly, if I could choose, I'd rather be manic. Because even though my thoughts, feelings and actions are volatile and much different than my 'normal' self, at least I wouldn't be severely depressed and want to end my life. I know I am sometimes afraid to try to really live my life. But this is not ever why I contemplate taking my life. It is always in an effort to stop the overwhelming heartache and pain I feel inside. I've had moderate to severe depression a lot in my life, for various reasons. But having depression that is due to a mental illness seems different. I find it harder to handle and cope with. And much harder to overcome. I really hate this.