crestfallen

i'm officially diagnosed clinically depressed.

i've been recommended a few psychiatrists not too far from my house, one of which might be covered under my insurance. i'm to see the psychiatrist and continue to go to psychotherapy.

if this is anything, it's a confirmation of the thoughts i've had for years.

all the events that i intentionally ditched to hide out alone and feel sorry for myself...

all the people i suffocated in my mind so that i could remain distant and cold...

all the years i spent madly thinking that i was some mastermind of those around me...

all of that is connected, and now i'm to rid myself of it.

as much as i know i need to, i can't help but be scared to do it. depression, as miserable as it is, is all i know. once i'm "cured" (is that the right word? this is a disease, isn't it?), i'll be starting over again. i'll be fine for the first time since i was a child. all my memories that i still hold are from a darkened mind. i'm going to be lost. is it wrong of me to not want to be rid of this affliction for that reason? i also feel that it's so ingrained in me that i won't be able to shake it. then again, i don't know the full power of the medicines to which i'll no doubt be prescribed.

time, as always, will tell, and nothing else.

i called

my appointment is at 9:30, on 11/17. i really hate mornings, but if i didn't make it, i'd be kicking myself in the ass. i guess i can get myself up before noon two days in a row. it can't be that bad...

it's been a while

it's been a while since i've written here. i haven't checked my last entry, so i can't say how long, but i'm guessing at least a month. i've been rather much depressed, and i'm going to see a counselor. i have her picked out; she's on staten island not too far from my house. i get six free sessions a year through my dad's employee assistance program, and she's on our insurance so it won't be too much money to continue having sessions. i still haven't made the call yet, though. when i told my mom that i was depressed, she suddenly became very adamant that i see someone. at the time i told her, i was very deeply depressed. i NEEDED to speak to someone, and i went through all the procedures to get authorized and i got the name of the woman and her number. something something-tirado, or tirado-something. i can't recall. i'll just call her tirado - it's simpler.

well, i haven't called her yet because now i feel fine. i don't feel necessarily happy, but is anyone really happy all the time? don't we spend most of our lives neutrally contented with moments and occasions of joy? now, i am content, but i know that eventually, i'll sink back into the depression, and that's when i'll need tirado. i'm telling myself i'm going to call her tomorrow, and i know i'm going to come up with fourteen excuses to put it off. "i got up too late." "i don't remember where i put it (even though i have a pretty good idea where it is)." "i don't feel like picking up the phone." "i'd rather eat/shower/sleep/bio/play a game/do something else first." i can't do it at the moment because it's late and people are sleeping (which is legitimate).

i've tried for a long time to handle it myself. it's over my head, and as much as i can tackle it most times, i won't ever rid myself of it alone. and so with great hesitance and knowing, i call for reinforcements, knowing full well that i'm breaking my record of perfection, of total self-repair.