Although getting better is subjective, pills and therapy were helping me float, then I stop taking them due to adverse effects and it all went downhill from there.
Feeling worse again can feel incandescently painful comparing it to the numbness that reign before. Everyone I love, hated (again), I only left my bed for work and returned crying but at least I didn’t stop writing this time.
What’s worse, to feel everything or nothing?
Being alone as an introvert is heaven, also hell when you’re making it easier for depression to consume you by pushing everyone away. On brighter days I enjoyed the autonomy of making plans without needing anyone to join in but what I needed to learn was how to be with others.
It has always been hard to be accompanied when hollow but still tried to fill the emptiness with strangers vainly because I couldn’t make or feel a connection anyway. On the other end, having a constant silent emotional crisis, was maddening enough to try to deal with people around me.
I thought staying alone made both scenarios easier till I was proven wrong. I met Odysseus, lost, confused, without expectations nor fear and as I’ve never allowed myself to be, vulnerable and turns out not being alone isn’t as difficult as I thought.
That was the beginning of an interesting journey of self discovery in which I realized I’ve been isolating from friends and family for nonsense reasons but now alone, again, confirm you get better at life by trying and failing, not succeeding.