Words ring hollow.

I keep dwelling on the recent conversation I had with Uniblogger. There's this whole "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" mentality that hurts probably as much as it is true. But the nasty thing about depression is that it saps every good thing in you. It makes even the easy things in life seem unbearable. So imagine trying something hard like completely revolutionizing your life.

I know it's not fair to put words in Uniblogger's mouth. They way I'm explaining this all is not the way that he meant it. But that's another nasty thing about depression, it takes the entire world and no matter how bright and brilliant it may be, it makes it dark and dismal. So it also takes Uniblogger's words, no matter how true or good intended they may be, and makes them ring hollow.

The hollow words tainted by my depression skew my perception. How am I supposed to be stronger than I would be at my best when I'm at my weakest. Survival would be more than what I could hope for, it would be a miracle. And Uniblogger doesn't just want survival, he wants me to triumph. That is so much more than just a daunting task. It's a herculean endeavour.

I changed my line next to my profile picture. It's from a song I like. The singer asks "Could it be this misery will suffice?" For me it rings true as a haunting realization that perhaps depression is what I'm stuck with. That it is all I'll ever have. Its a oddly comforting thought, like a cloak made of ice. It's chilling but it is nonetheless worn to protect one from what's outside, from what's worse.

I would love to change, but I just don't know where the strength to do so would come from. All the strength I posses is used to keep me from going to pieces. I would love to be magical made better. But to hold out for that seems foolhardy. So I hope that "this misery will suffice", because I don't have anything else if it doesn't.