I told a very good friend today that I had fallen in a hole (of depression) and she asked me when it started. She said she had to ask, because I fall a lot. Ouch. It’s stinging in my head. I don’t know how else to explain it. Sometimes, someone says something that just hurts. It then plays over and over in my head and I get the shock of it again and again.

Last night, I was in another conversation, with someone who actually used the expression “glass half full.” Optimism is healthy, for sure, but there is also a difference between optimism and lack of empathy, and I think that he might have the latter.

I’m in the uncomfortable position of wanting to defend myself, and thinking I shouldn’t. If she says I fall a lot, I fall a lot. There’s nothing to defend. But a tiny, secret part of me wants to tell someone new of my woes, so that I can get sympathy, instead of a mirror. I noticed it last night, too. I mentioned the assault and got no comment. I was surprised, but it came up one or two more times in the conversation, and never yielded a response. Now, that’s not a mirror, that’s a problem. I bring it up because it’s more evidence that I’m seeking attention, if unconsciously.

Damn. I hate being here. I want to rail against the mirror. I want to say how much I’ve improved and how hard I’m working. Only, I’m not. I’m stuck. Again. And I’ve been stuck almost continuously since November. Oh, hell, it seems like I’m always stuck. See? My glass is half empty, dammit! I rail, try to escape, try to grab onto someone to help, but it’s rare that it works. Today, it’s not working.

So, in the spirit of pessimism, which I try not to indulge too often, let me just catalogue a few of my pessimistic thoughts:  I feel like I’m always depressed. I’ve been sleeping way too much. Things around me are going to hell and I’m not doing anything to fix it. I still haven’t started exercising and I’m still overweight. I’m behind at work. I’m always behind at work. I just moved and I stopped unpacking. My house is a disaster. I suck. I’m a terrible mother. I don’t have enough food in the house. I’m a bad friend. I’m broken and not fixable.

I could go on for a long time, but that’s enough. Hard to read, right? I think it’s hard to be my friend. I try not to unload on people, but clearly I’ve been reaching out to one of my friends too much. Hence, the mirror. It doesn’t really hurt now. The other thoughts hurt more.

I’m actually very aware and grateful for the many blessings in my life. Doesn’t stop the negative thoughts, though.

I worry about myself. My secret fear is that I will have reached my death bed and realized that I never shook it off. My biggest regret will be that I never truly lived.

I know that the glass is half full. But today, in my mind, it’s half empty.

Damn it all!