I have no right to be depressed.
But I am. Why?
What is there in my life that is so terribly awful, so awful, that I want to scream all the time? What is it I can do to take away the emotional hurt?
Nothing, not really.
I know myself only to an extent. There's another version of me, the depressive me, that sleeps somewhere in the darker recesses of my heart, the deepest pits that I can't find alone. I can't find it, it finds me. And when it does it takes over me completely. Surely that's a sign of some psychological problem? What other reason is there to feel the way I do now?
It's times like these when I can't know myself because I feel like I'm trapped in my own head, struggling to break free from the clutches of my depressive self. They are two parts of me that make the same. They're like two extremes of my personality, not two different ones.
I just want so desperately to be happy. Really, truly happy, not the sort of fleeting happiness I seem to experience during the day. That kind of happiness never lasts, and it always seems to come with a bring down, because you've lost the feeling you've been missing for such a long time. You think that maybe, just maybe, it will stay with you for good, only to have it leave you again.
It's much harder to cope with that way, it's like being tricked.