Depression is a feisty little bitch
I have this tendency to enter into self destructive (yet sometimes incredibly fun) activities when I'm depressed. I'll spare you the details because... well... nobody needs to know me like that. I lose my boundaries... my inhibitions... my sense of self when depression kicks in. I'm kind of a chameleon. Completely empty and blank until I step out into a world of color. I hesitate to share this information with my therapist because, well... I don't want to go back to the hospital. Like when I think of hurting myself... it's just a thought. I remove myself from the temptation and move on. Hurting myself could be many different things.... and some can be enjoyable. I need joy, right? He knows I'm empty. I've been over this with him. And I'm dealing with it in some healthy ways, right? He doesn't necessarily need to know about the bad too... I've been more depressed than normal lately. Home isn't exactly great. And well... baby mam...