The blackness, the bleakness is finally starting to lift.
Just being able to say that much is somewhat of a wonder. The longer I think, the longer I'm out of the bleakness the less sure I become about when it started. I wouldn't be too surprised if I have being in a continuous depression for most of my life.
However becoming less sure of myself, as I surface from the fog, is something which I should only expect. That's how life is, or at least that's how my life is. Something which I came across many years ago is still as relevant today as it was back then, and that is that "the more I know the less certain I become about anything." A very wise man once told me that, like so much he taught I never found it false.
Yes that phrasing is strange, 'never found it false', but that is perhaps the best way to describe it. My memory is too good. The half spoken promises, the little white lies that everyone (or at least most in my experience) tells on a daily basis. I can remember them, all of them, and that has managed to leave me more disappointed in man as a species than most could possibly imagine.
If there is a way for man (either as an individual or as a group) to stuff something up they will probably find it. And if something works and doesn't stuff things up then someone will fix that mistake up, probably, just in time to inconvenience me. Such is life though.
I am half out of the depression. Some (or perhaps most!) of what is left the anger and everything else that I go through on a daily basis is purely from habbit. I am used to depression and finding something to replace is something which I've yet to do. It will come, in time.. One thing which I have above all else is time..
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