I’m refusing to medicate these days. Things are going well and I’ve been substituting with exercise.
Everyone applauds me on getting in shape and using exercise the way “normal” people do to motivate themselves.
I try not to judge those who’d dare even use the word normal in such context, but it’s hard.
I have a new girlfriend. My family is proud of me and my friends are thrilled to see me again.
So why does the pain come back? I’ve found things I love and I still find myself waiting around to die. I won’t go back to cutting. I look at the old scars and it weakens me when I’m feeling strong. I feel weak because I feel I may need to go back to being medicated. I just want the depression to go away. I’m tired of it being there. I’ve been told that I like the comfort of it’s consistency. I have a feeling the people who make such assumptions haven’t had to deal with it for the vast majority of their life. Such regularity is maddening to me.
Exercise has become another medication that I’ve built a tolerance to. I’m losing my interest in everything. I’ve started crying for no reason again. People are getting worried.
The worried looks hurt a great deal. I feel disappointed in myself. It’s better than no one caring I suppose. The only comfort I used to find was in being able to survive for myself.
Now I feel there are all these people counting on me.