Addendum to that previous post on depression (or, a realization I had later on). I think up till this most recent bout, one of my main issues with approaching my depression was trying to address it alone. Now, what I mean by that I think takes a bit of explanation. Every previous time I'd been depressed, and well into the recent bout, I'd denied it - whether by denying the fact that I was, or realizing I was depressed but railing against it and wishing I wasn't, for any number of reasons, but perhaps most of all because I felt it made me less of a person. But no, it doesn't - I'm me, and anyone who runs into that trouble is just who they are; we're aren't 'depressed,' we are who we are, and we happen to have to deal with that condition on our selves sometimes. Who knows, maybe we're the better for it in the end, or maybe we can choose to be.

To make a shallow loop, in realizing I was depressed I'd finally reached out for...well, rescue would I think be the best word. And completely faceplanted, hard, when it turned out I had been complacent in having faith in that supposed salvation, and the hand I thought was pulling me up just...let go, all of a sudden. In that, I'm not sure whether I'll trust like that again, and leave myself so vulnerable, but truth be told I shouldn't have been relying on another so much anyway; so in that sense, it seems better to address my depression alone.

But - not alone. I had been alone in addressing it before in denying it - once I stopped denying it and started to try to accept and even embrace it like I did with my headaches, then I wasn't alone anymore - finally, after all that conscious and unconscious struggling with it, all that turning my back on myself, I was helping myself. So...not so alone.