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Just One of Those Days (again...)

I've been dependent on antidepressants for almost 4 years now - I take it more faithfully than vitamin supplements. It's my spinach, if I were Popeye... but no, not really - it doesn't only give that extra boost (like being able to sing in the shower - yes, it makes me that happy!), it actually makes me survive the next 24 hours until I take one again.

So what happens if I don't? First day, nothing. Second day, starting to be irritated. Third day, irritated, agitated. Fourth day, I become a ticking time bomb. Then fifth, sixth or seventh day, depending on the triggers around, I just spontaneously cry. I've accepted that this is going to be probably the rest of my life. Similar to having some form of chronic pain, a kind of disease that you can't really cure anymore but just need to manage. If I don't, I'm a few steps away from jumping off of a balcony.

But meds are not all a depressed person needs.

A depressed person also needs to shop. (LOL).

Kidding, ofcourse, but yes, I think this is how stressed people deal, right? Some retail therapy? Well, I do think it helps, to a certain point.

But really what we need is a person to talk to. WITHOUT JUDGEMENT.

Now, that's hard to find in this day and age when everyone is busy. Everyone needs to make an appointment or check their calendar to give you some free time to whine, rant or just be. No, I am not blaming them because I do the same - and in addition, I don't have that part of myself to give because I'm also dealing with my own stuff (well, not that anyone needs me to talk to...) But what I realized as I go through my life, I find it harder and harder to open up. I used to be this open book, no secrets, telling too much about myself actually, without shame. Now, 10 years later, I find myself secretive, pretending, filtering everything I say even to closest friends. I'm not sure why, I don't think they judge, but I guess I dislike myself that much now to be 100% real. Or maybe I know them too well to actually guess what they would say, and I don't have the tolerance anymore to endure what they say, "true friends will tell you what you don't want to hear". I actually don't know what I want to hear. I also don't know what I want from them. There's just some days that I'd rather not be alone.

I am turning 40 and unsuccessful in life - at least with the meaning of success that society dictates. There is some social pressure to some degree, but I think that it really doesn't matter as much as compared with the pressure from within us. There were countless times in my life when I want to have a fresh start, a new beginning, a change, a do-over , etc. etc. But now, it's different. I don't want to start again. Only if it were up to me, I want my story to end.



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