It's 3 am and yet another sleepless night. I think taking sleeping pills for 20 years to counteract the effects of anti-depressants that kept me awake, has destroyed my sleep cycle. I've already adjusted to the newest pills so they're no longer working.
The depression has metamorphosed from a heavy lump on top of me to a miasma that pours in through my ears and nose and chokes me so I can hardly get a breath. I imagine chunks of my insides dying off as the depression floods through me. I think someday there will be nothing left of me but dead lumps that used to be organs. If it would kill me, that would be one thing, but I don't look forward to living as a necrotic mass of my former self.
I am amused by physicians who scold me for not having "a primary caregiver" to tend to my physical health. Do they really not recognize the drugs I've obediantly listed on the multitude of forms I've filled out prior to seeing them? Hey, doc, I have Major Depressive Disorder, chronic and severe. My biggest regret in life is surviving cancer. Do you really think if I got another shot at a natural death that I would do the slightest thing to prevent it? I've learned my lesson well. Dying is the alternative I choose, the sooner the better. I am sick of living like this.
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