Ahh, take a step back as I sacrifice more potentially productive moments at this altar of my ego.
I'm 32. I haven't done anything with my life. But at least I didn't end it.
So what's next?
Next week I have an appointment with a therapist. So depression's been licked (thanks to drugs. I'm under no illusion: stop the drugs and the vacation ends), but there's all that damage to my inner psyche. What am I to do with that? I feel like I am not fully capable of dealing with "life." I have a thin skin. I can't commit. I get upset and want to give up at the smallest provocations.
I don't remember if I mentioned it here, but I like to describe depression as a house fire. The house is your soul and depression burns away at it. You want to make changes, to improve, but you can't until you put the fire out. And putting the fire out doesn't mean, "Yay! you've one! Now you're done." It means now the work can begin.
So that's where I'm at. Standing here with this empty shell of a soul, only I don't know how to clean up all this ash. So that's where the therapy starts. I hope.