One thing concerns me, and it is that I may never make a full recovery.
I aimed for a full recovery.
That is what I told myself, what I hoped for.
I told myself that one day I would forget depression, I would create a new life.
It was that dream that drove me on.
Since Christmas, I have found myself dwelling on the fact that this may never happen.
There will always be a mark, always scars.
I will always have bad memories.
I cannot be fully free of depression because my family carry this illness.
I want to be there for them if I am needed, and I decided I would always try to help.
But that does mean that my future will contain depression in some form.
The story that I told myself, of total freedom from mental illness is not going to happen.
This is a disappointment.
I also know that such a future requires courage, and I do not feel that I possess the courage, or not yet.
It helps me to look at the beauty of the World. It helps me when Lady wants to sleep beside me and cuddle.
It helps me to see the moon through the trees as I do tonight.
Perhaps if I take tiny steps I will find the courage that I need.