4.8.21

I can't say I've been feeling myself these days. For a while now, in fact. The thick, black sludge of depression constantly hangs in the background. threatening to suffocate me should I let me guard down and give it the chance. More often than not I can keep it at bay, and I do well, living a content life. But it is always present, and I know this.

Lately it has been hard to keep it at a distance, and I feel it take over some days when I am too tired to fight it. There is an odd comfort in letting it consume me. Somehow it feels easier in the darkness, easier than constantly having to resist or run from it. The soft yet heavy sinking feeling, familiar yet insidious. I know the comfort is not trustworthy and know I cannot stay this way. It is depression playing tricks on the mind. I try to remind myself of this.