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Grey skies.

I know what to do.  I know how to do it.  I have the support of the right people.  I have the skills I need.  And it still doesn't work.

This week is brought to you by the word powerless. 

I had my regular appointment with my Doctor today.  Renewed prescriptions.  Another referral to another psychologist.  The same advice regarding 'sleep hygiene'.  A repeated conversation around diet and exercise.  More feelings of frustration from my Doctor who seems at a loss for what to do next. 


Powerless.  A spectator.  In, and apart from; the mental hamster wheel I wake up in every day.

My 'me' brain is frustrated.  It can see the Depression brain disconnecting.  Watch it taking up all the energy I could be using to DO something. 

Depression is terrifying.  It takes a lot of work to protect yourself from it.  Even now, after almost 18 months, I can't guarantee the Depression won't again convince me to commit suicide.  I'm pretty sure I've walled away that impulse from it's manipulation; but Depression is sneaky.  It's an overwhelming force, that I face every day - and it constantly seeds new forces, hidden in seemingly 'safe' territories of my brain.  Nothing is sacred.  Nothing is safe. 


Walking home from the Doctor today, there was a pretty view of blossoming Pohutukawa trees.  Nice.  I took a moment to consciously appreciate them, and took a photo.  Good things right?  The sky was grey.  Depression activated a cell, and suddenly a grey sky was the metaphorical meaningless that covers my entire life, inescapable, and by the time I made it home, I felt as numb as ever.


I try hard to see and acknowledge the good things.  It's hard, and often the moment gets turned around to bite me in the emotional ass.  Some days it's less painful to stay numb, remain 'apart' from life.

It hurts less.

D
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