Last night was pretty good. Nothing is ever perfect, but it was good. Until the depression hit again and I lost all my feel-good vibes. The only cure for that particular problem were my kittens (CG and Tigress).
This morning was tiring and disappointing. I helped my sister shop, didn’t find what I wanted. Helped my mother run errands, still didn’t find what I needed. And don’t feel like I have accomplished anything worthwhile in the past week. It’s been empty. I’m tired.
How I get back to this state as soon as I am out of the influence of certain people, I don’t know. But it does happen. It’s like they are my buffers against the darkness, my strength against the despair. They are my hope. And if they are not with me, I feel as if there is no hope and nothing left to salvage. I feel nothing but fatalistic depression. It irritates and infuriates me that I lack self-sufficiency to such a pathetic extent.
I wanted to be strong. I’ve simply wanted to Live all along. Now it’s come to the point that I can only hope that with life’s trials I can learn to better cope.
“All my scars don’t seem to matter anymore because they led me here to you.”
I wish I could say that…and I know that I can’t.
Hoping, always, for a better tomorrow.