Friday, 20 September 2013

You don't get a say...

Reading through these comic strips regarding depression, it occurred to me that no matter how boring it has become to me, no matter how annoying it is, how inconvenient it can be, I don't really have that much of a say in when mine happens or even when and if it ends.
Right now, I can't tell if it's become a sort of background accessory to my life or if it's resting until the next time it jumps up and suddenly awakens again. I've had a couple of off days, which I guess is better than a week of it but it's hard to be positive about such an inherently un-positive illness. Trying to come to terms with the very real possibility of this being part of me from now until I do one permanently is hard to digest. 
What of future relationships  That's a laugh, mostly because I can't really see me having any long term ones in the future. The prospect is terrifying. Who'd want to commit to me as I am? The potential passing on of my black gene to and me being black in front of kids wold be an awful thing so I find it real hard to see anyone wanting a family with me anytime soon.
Probably just as well eh?

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