It's been quite awhile since I've been deep inside that dark, dingy hole my mental healthcare providers like to call "depression." In fact, I can't remember the last time I sucummbed to the desire to lock myself in and spend the day crying into my blankets.

It's weird, though, how depression can become a fixture in your life so that even when it's gone, it's still there like the proverbial monkey on your back. I remember the first few months I was "depression-free" were completely bizarre and I wasn't sure if how I was feeling was "normal" or if I had become bipolar and was in a manic phase. But eventually, I did get used to not wanting to cry all the time and not constantly fantasizing about slitting my wrists in the shower.

Anyway, where am I going with this...I guess lately there has been this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. It's like something's trying to pull me back into the hole I finally managed to crawl out of after fifteen years. My body is angry. My joints are rebelling. And I'm wondering, this time, is it the physical sickness preceding the mental or the other way around? I'm just so tired. And there are so many things to worry about (like that damn bill from the collection agency bastards).

So I guess, I'm writing because I feel like "it" is coming back. And I'm scared. Physical pain is one thing, mental anguish is another, but both at once, I don't know if I can handle it. It makes me want to give up and I know that that's what the depression wants. It wants me to stop caring about life and about waking up tomorrow. I'm so scared of that emptiness coming back. I honestly believed that after Paul I could never feel that way again, but I guess I was wrong. Apparently depression doesn't care if someone loves you better than you love yourself.

I just - I need something to change. But I'm not sure what. Maybe something inside me. Maybe something in my life. I think what I really need is to get away from Los Angeles. I want to live somewhere quiet for awhile.