Monday, April 6, 2015

That Voice

The voice in my head gets so loud sometimes it is all I can hear. The voice that says: "Life isn't worth it; Give up; Give in ; End it all; Why do you bother?.

I fight of course I f do, I've been fighting it since I was f 11. 44 years of not letting it push me to the final place because I don't want to leave my family that kind of memory of myself. But sometimes like since mid-Jan of this year it gets hard.

I do not cry, my mother always told me crying doesn't solve the problem and I agree with her but some days the tears are in my throat and they really want to come out. I don't let them. I try to write them away. Usually in my journal or here sometimes in dismal poetry or art work. I have a whole collection of my artwork that is on the dark side from other bouts of dealing with this dythymia.

Cute word that means ongoing crippling depression with no known cure. Or as the doctors say a low-level constant depression that has lasted longer that 5 years caused by the bodies inability to manufacture sufficient serotonin.

I think that is how the doctor phrased it when she told me why I had never experienced real joy and fought constant thoughts of suicide. Even exercise doesn't produce enough to make up the shortfall.
Nothing does and when it gets to it's current level it is really hard to get back to ... well my normal.

I keep busy reading, writing, drawing even watching movies sometimes to take myself out of the funnel but it takes a lot of work and I just get tired.

Above is the first page I did this month. April is supposed to be about renewal. All I saw was the rain.

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