Well. I survived. I made it through the week of camp.

I was kinda useless by Thursday (thank goodness for my assistant). I just didn’t have the energy and mental capacity to deal with 5th graders anymore. I couldn’t even fake it. My memory was shot. I got home last night, slept for 2 hours, got up, showered, and went to sleep for another 11.  I’m exhausted.  I need time and am going to ask for one or two days off work to recover.

If it wasn’t for that damn depression. It’s pulling me down. I haven’t done the dishes in a week and I couldn’t tell you the last time I did laundry.  I’ve had to resort to dressing up because everything else I own is dirty. My messy is turning into dirty and I hate it. This isn’t me. But I can’t get my sorry butt up off the couch.

I hate this.  This depressive episode has lasted forever.  It feels like years. I want it to be over. I’m tired of taking medicine, I’m tired of feeling suicidal. I’m tired of being me. I want an out.

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