Still Present

Well a few more of you read this than I originally thought. I received a few "...ya doin' ok?" phone calls this week.

I am still here and still working through this.

My brother is, as of this writing, driving in tomorrow. He's a very occupied person with his work and, of late, his dogs ailing health. I have thrown another iron into his fire and he wants to drive in to see that I'm doing alright and also probably to offer a brief respite from my self-consumption.

I shot off to the hospital the night that I posted last. I wasn't made to be admitted and they tweaked my medication and sent me off. I am partly at fault for that because when offered that scenario as an expectation for my treatment that evening I seized onto it.

I am just supremely tired of this sickness, illness, affliction; call it what you will. I thought with my time in hospital and CRU that I had learned not only how to deal with it as it is, but also had happened upon a drug combination that was able to elevate me to a place of stability. I thought with the apartment and the job I was making great progress.

Pride is my biggest detriment at this point. I have known a life of 'normalcy', operating in the real world as a fully functioning adult. Having had those experiences I am able to see how pathetic my current situation really is. I can not do for myself what once I was able to do. I place fault on myself and I think that shoots all the way back to the first day that I was ever diagnosed with depression. I was 16. The doctor made the diagnosis and I looked to my mom and said, "I don't ever want to have to use depression as an excuse." I am unable to give the disease that power over me. So if I can't use depression as an excuse then I must be what is broken, right?