"Mania is a sickness for one's friends, depression for one's self. Both are chemical. In depression, one wakes, is happy for about two minutes, probably less, and fades into dread of the day. Nothing will happen, but you know twelve hours will pass before you are back in bed and sheltering your consciousness in dreams, or nothing."
Robert Lowell
I wanted to write so bad today! But it is useless to even try. There was something that has been on my heart to write about, and I made up my mind last night I would this morning. But, about twenty minutes from the time my feet hit the floor this morning, I felt it creep in me. Slowly it built up steam... imagine pure depression, irritable, major anger, guilt, restless, anxiety to the point where I cannot breathe --all at once.
There is no use in me trying to type anything else. I feel that I either have to get up and run as hard as I can, or sink into the covers and turn on music and hide. I don't know which, or what to do, and this makes it worse.
I'll be back as soon as I can. Until then, think of me. I know I'll make it...but sometimes it's such a fine line...
"My Mind"
There is no use in me trying to type anything else. I feel that I either have to get up and run as hard as I can, or sink into the covers and turn on music and hide. I don't know which, or what to do, and this makes it worse.
I'll be back as soon as I can. Until then, think of me. I know I'll make it...but sometimes it's such a fine line...
"My Mind"
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