Sad, lost, nothing feels right. Whenever I think of something to do the thought, ‘but there’s no point’ squashes my idea. So it’s been a summer of blah and then continuing blah into Autumn. Too much blah, not enough life.
Time to get off anti-depressants. They clearly aren’t working. Next month will mark five years on SSRIs, and the more I read the more it appears to be true that after two years the benefits decrease and the problems (for example depression) increase. And, finally, Aaron agrees (’cause I made him read a whole lot of stuff). Which is important because I want his support if things get messy.
I’m a bit scared, a bit unsure what I’ll be like or what I’m heading into. But I do know my life ain’t worth much as it is. I’m drowning. I am so far down in this place I can’t see the edges anymore. My world has got so small – I am scared to travel, unable to get a job, and markedly lacking energy and motivation. Yesterday, in my stuck place, I wanted to get to my friend’s farm which is only five minutes drive away, but it felt too far to risk. I was stuck at home.
So all in all, this is no good. I need to find our what I do have, what I can have, what there is of me. Yesterday I lay on the grass down by the plum trees and watched the bare branches against the gray sky. The earth was warm.