"How can you hide from something that never goes away?"

This is an entry I found on a blog that I read often

The quotes are from the movie, Prozac Nation..

although I could have written all of these words myself
as they describe my feelings so completely.
I have had depressive and anxiety related "episodes"
through all of my 21 years.. but somehow this one feels
like the deepest, darkest hole ever... a total waste of my fucking time.

"No one is ever going to love me that way
because I'm so awful and all I ever do
is cry and get depressed.
If I were another person,
I wouldn't want to deal with me.
I don't want to deal with me.
It's so hopeless.
I want out of this life.
I really do….
I keep thinking that
I'm driving myself crazy,
but I swear, I swear to God,
I have no control. It's so awful.
It's like demons have taken over my mind.
And nobody believes me.
Everybody thinks I could be better if I wanted to.
But I can't be myself anymore.
I mean, actually, I am being myself
right now and it's so horrible."

You see, I feel that I am not me anymore.

Or maybe me only comes out once in a while...

the outspoken, funny, intellectual guy

with the huge laugh and a sense for the mischievous.

I am not sure where that fun guy with the huge heart

is living right now because he only occasionally says hi

and gets swallowed up again by the dark side.

Sometimes I am afraid he may never come back.
I hear him though... and he wants his voice back.
I always try and write as true to me as possible but lately

I have felt that all I can write about is this feeling of nothing inside.

The tale of the great Depression...
The anxiety, the pain, the dark tunnel which sees no light.

Nobody wants to read that crap... not even me.

Although I write for me, I enjoy having the audience so,

the best I can hope for is a new understanding

for those who do not understand the dark

and perhaps a feeling of safety in numbers

for others who has lived in that tunnel.

I know you are out there.
Depression is a deceptive liar...

you want to share the absolutely huge pain you feel

on the inside not because you want sympathy.

Abse-fucking-lootly NOT.

It is the absolute last thing ever.

No, you just want to be heard.

On the other hand, it is not socially acceptable

to be openly demented and therefore

rather an exercise in shame and you want

those dark parts hidden from the world.

It is a double edged sword.
To be totally honest...................

I'm afraid I will wake up one day

and be totally alone and that nobody thought

I was worth the effort to stick it out till the very end...

and that I will be as invisible as I feel.

"I wish something would knock me out
for a long time until the way I feel just stops,
because this is not even an issue for therapy anymore.
We can analyze it for days and that won't take away the pain.
Something bigger is taking over my body and mind.
I'm possessed."

I look at pictures of me and I find it so hard to believe

that the man smiling back at me is on the flip side

of this manic depressive soul.

I so like the smiling, happy guy better!!!!

I am writing this full of tears

and fighting the urge to delete these words and hide.

It is an awfully lonely feeling that

I do not want to highlight because

it makes me feel alienated,

different and just alone - and crazy.

While at the same time wanting to dare the world

to take a really hard, realistic look at people like me

who are all around you. Force yourself.

Perfectly wonderful human beings like me,

who happen to feel like the living dead.

Nobody wants to feel like this. Nobody asks for it.

It is an illness dammit - nobody WANTS to cry all the time

and feel like there is some other

bewitched fuckwit living in their body!

If I had a broken bone or a tumor,

how much more accepting the world would be

than admitting my mind if more than beautiful.

Needing treatment, love, support and care

as any other illness minus the social stigma,

judgment and rejection of anyone or anything different...

or that we do not understand.

"I'm looking forward to this blank peace,
this oblivion, this nothing, this not being me anymore.
I am looking forward to it for real.
Or at least, this is what I tell myself.
I tell myself I'm not scared,
I tell myself I really want to die,
and it never occurs to me until the last possible moment
that what I really want is to be saved."

I once had a conversation with a client at work

who was telling me about somebody committing suicide

and she ended the conversation saying

"If they could only have gotten through the moment".

I keep telling myself that. I keep reasoning with myself

"Come on Chris... just get through this moment."

... but the moments are getting closer and
closer together and I'm getting tired.

"You've had enough of me, haven't you?
You're probably so tired of all this crying and all these moods,
and I've got to tell you, so am I.
Sometimes it seems like my mind has a mind of its own,
like I just get hysterical, like it's something I can't control at all.
And I don't know what to do, and I feel so sorry for you
because you don't know what to do either.
And I'm sure you're going to leave me."

Look, my blog my not be all that and a bag of chips anymore....

but it's me. It's real and as always, that is

my greatest gift to anyone. No pretense.

Much love.
Chris.