Depression? Oh right, I nearly forgot.

Silly me

I realised today that I haven't talked about depression much on the blog. And there's a good reason - it's because I haven't been thinking about it all that much.

(At this point in time the old self would now go back and calculate how many days it's been since
I last posted about depression. The new self now doesn't really care.)

In some ways this is good. Not having to deal with it minute by minute has shown me that I may be some way through the worst of it. Life has been a little on autopilot, aided by medication (of the non-vodka kind) and continuing therapy. I've now fallen into a pattern that's reasonably happy and easy to coast along with.

This is where the post could end. Life, as the fairy tale, ends with happily ever afters and the book is closed.

In other ways, though, I still need to work on the depression. According to my therapist, I'm
at the point where I can either take things deeper or leave them, but I'm over the worst. My
emotional development has been restarted, I'm more aware and thoughtful of things and have a
generally happy outlook.

I still live with depression, though. While the drugs do work, they haven't killed the beast,
merely cut it's claws and thrown a blanket over it. There are still fears in my life such as the fear that the beast will get loose again; the fear of failure; the fear of not having the answers and the fear of not being what I was meant to be.

My feeling now is that I have the benefit now of choosing to fight these battles, or not. So it's not a battle for my life, merely a breather while I maneuver into position.

So good point: I only stare into the abyss now, rather than teetering over the edge.
Bad point: Not much fuel for writing. I guess there's always cat-blogging.