Nearly a quarter century ago, I was a freshman in college. Being from a small town and going to a major university didn't seem like a big deal, I just did it because my options were such.
I didn't pick my parents nor my hometown, but I essentially picked my college. I lacked vision beyond leaving my town and parents. My options were more than what I considered, but there were 3 that I considered. 1) Go to college where my brother was and find something. 2) Relent to the Navy recruiter and join the Navy 3) Join my friends who had been living in South America.
I chose the safest option, but I had to choose a major and follow through the motions of being a college person.
My major, in the beginning, was pre-pharmacy. I had hard classes and they made me reconsider my major pretty quickly. I had my first bought of true depression during the end of the quarter and slept a lot during the winter break.
I've yet to be suicidal, but the thought of being eventually gone from this world is why.
It's been raining today. I've been a bit meh since being home again, but today is one of those days I look forward to the day that I can look back and be done with everything. My children are still in school, so I have a lot of living to do. Books tend to leave out the blah days, so days like today seem worse than they are. People who never felt true depression wouldn't understand this feeling.
I stopped thinking of myself as being normal long enough that I stopped thinking of myself as not being normal.
Being medicated, keeps me even-keeled, or at least better at going through the motions of being a capable entity.
