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Why is this so effing hard?

Anxiety and depression. Hand in hand, they tug one me one way or the other.  I think I have one under control and the other pops up “Surprise! Can’t get rid of me that easily.” No forgiveness with this hell. Just day in day out wondering if today is the day I’ll finally feel better. Or perhaps wondering if this is it. Maybe this is as good as it gets. Psych appt on Thursday and I’ll tell him the depression has reared its ugly head again. Probably another med change or tinkering with dosages again. Frustrated. Agitated. Sad. Affecting my relationships and my school work. Wonder if I’ll ever get better. Don’t have high hopes even though my therapist thinks that “deep down I’m an optimist.”
Yup, that’s my past month. Questioning my self, questioning my “normal.” Tired of all the questioning. Oh, and got told off by an acquaintance that insulted a friend of mine on my fb, so I kindly deleted his comment. Yay me.



3 thoughts on “Why is this so effing hard?

  1. Whew, rough times. Sorry to hear it. The academic comment deletion part sort of made me laugh and cringe at the same time. It’s Facebook, for Pete’s sake. It’s hard to know when to be an academic and true to your “educated” beliefs and when to just be a decent person on an individual basis. Every decision we make can be judged as privileged by someone, somewhere. Kindness of heart trumps being perennially “right.”

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