…has reared itself again. This sleeping giant that can crush my spirits, block my eyes to the sun and stand against all my mighty efforts at defiant happiness.

Before these last two years, I have never felt quiet like this. Not for this long, not to this degree, not that I recognized.

The thoughts have started again, hopeless and helpless are my old standby catch phrases… Why does it come back, each time, when I think I am finally better, each time that I feel the warm of the sun start to thaw the insides of myself, a cloud passes and then two clouds, eventually building to a storm that rages inside and leaves me tired and desperate for permanent shelter.

I want it to stop forever.

I hate the sting of tears inside my nose, the slightly tight clench of my stomach as I try to hold them from sliding down my face. And the dull look on my face erased in places with practiced smiles. The inability to speak with certainty in any matter, my voice silent and unused, too much at rest with no witty retort on it’s tip.

I fade and become transparent. A bright picture now unrecognized, colors blended and ran together, the outline has disappeared and I am left without clear boundaries of where I stop and where the whiteness of paper begins.

This battle is too long now, I’m tired and I want to be done with it.