Over the weekend, my mind had relapsed. I became that vulnurable 19-year-old kid again. Throughout these few days, I had gotten upset and frustrated at myself: Why? Why do I feel this way? In all honesty, I don't know why. My Depression, in general, comes and goes along, in the same way the ocean ebbs and flows against the shore. These episodes are often temporary: usually a healthy, emotional cry or a decent night's rest will abate the troubling storm in my mind. However, this episode felt different. It seemed stronger. Potent. Enough to retrograde my state of mind to that of my younger and more volatile 19-year-old self.
When I was 19, my Depression had it's most damaging hold on me. I remember spending my 19th year alive feeling really alone, lacking all self-worth, and I found myself wanting to give up on life (not in a self-afflicting harm kind of way - more along the lines of surviving, rather than thriving). I also remember having the most aggressive outburst of raw emotion. I had internalized so much negativity that it had all burst upon those who cared about me. I ended up pushing then away. I also remember feeling hopeless, that I'd never find a way to overcome this Depression, that I couldn't even find a way to coexist with It. Even now, some years later, I sometimes question the possibility of such coexistence.
In retrospect, I hate the reality that I regressed so much over the weekend. The resolutions that I challenge myself with yearly or hell, this entire blog I have created, ensure that I'm moving forward, that I'm striving to present the best self that I can. The fact the I reverted so subtly, so suddenly, exasperates me. I know that my Depression's cycle of ebb and flow forces me to stay strong and push on, but when I don't have much of a chance when I do go through an episode...well, now you know why I was upset at myself this weekend.
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