It will get better.

"It will get better" that's what I have to keep telling myself, it's difficult to believe at the moment, and that's the problem, you can't listen to reason when you feel like this especially when the voice of reason is coming from you. 

It's even harder to believe that it will get better when you've been so low that not being alive has truly seemed like the best option, only to get better to a place where you can function on a vaguely normal level before being plunged back into shear darkness. How do I know that this episode will not be never ending? I can't even guarantee that I will never be back hear again. 

This abstract idea (that I will be better again- it really does seem completely abstract, right now n dimensional cubes seem far less abstract), that I seem to be grasping for seems so far out of reach that I don't even know why I'm reaching for it. It doesn't seem worth the effort, it really doesn't. But I know I must, I must. I want to be well and logically I know that other people want me to be well (rather than dead, but yes, since when has depression been logical?!). 

I'm going to the psychiatrist on Monday, and I'm guessing they will alter my medication. I can only hope it helps, because right now I'm scared, fed up, feeling lost within myself and frankly exhausted. Oh and awake at gone 3am, it's nice that insomnia has made an unwelcome return along with a bad episode of trichotillomania. 

This is poorly written, but as I say it's gone 3am, and yer I'm not at my best, but it needed to be written. Or at least I felt it did.