(no subject)

[solitary_summer]

I hate my mood swings and bouts of depression, I really do. But at least this time I found that I could snap out of it and apologise to my family for the fit of temper I inflicted on them; actually realised that I could do that, that didn't need to depressedly sulk in the corner I had manouvred myself into. It's rather pathetic that this counts as progress for me. Problem is, when I'm in the midst of one of these lows, I just can't act differently, my only way of defence is to withdraw, to violently reject everything and anyone, and my father was scarily right here, I do it to hurt myself. But sometimes shutting everything off seems the only way to deal; to fall back to this place where there is no hope, only resignation, feels safe somehow, because at least it relieves you of the obligation to struggle on...



Reading Thomas Mann helped, somehow. Reminding me that part of me, deep inside isn't, and doesn't want to be this depressed, sad person.