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A Year of Giving Up
Spring term.
A worrisome cut.
A doctors visit.
A 'crisis' counselling session.
Another doctors visit.
A summers worth of therapy.
Zoloft.
More therapy fall term.
Withdraw from a class.
Sporadically attend the other two.
Meds appointments.
Over doses.
Winter term. Therapy.
Academic and financial aid probation.
Withdraw from same class.
Attend other two slightly more often than last term.
Meds appointments.
Paxil.
Zoloft.
Stitches.
More over doses.
Spring term. Therapy
Financial aid probation.
Stitches.
Almost admitted to hospital.
Two additional therapy sessions that week.
Emergency room (same week). This ones more serious (hit a vein) . Stitches. Narrowly escape admittance.
Wellbutrin (in addition to the Zoloft).
So many meds appointments...
Have to graduate.
Continue in all classes, attend sporadically.
Try and find housing.
Job hunting.
Government housing.
Though still in apartment am technically homeless as I must be out by July 7th.
Lots of paper work.
Prescription for my cat(?).
Still more over doses.
Graduate, but just barely.
Summer. More therapy.
More over doses.
Meds appointments.
Work at old job, one last summer.
HopeSource.
Caseworker.
Pathetic.
All those years being in control of my depression. One year of giving up.
I once had plans, dreams, and goals.
I now have one day at a time, and a future that makes me wonder if there really is a point. No goals, no dreams, no plans or desires. No motivation, no will.
It took a long time to hit bottom. But I am there. It's a long way back up. And I am tired.
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