Here I am again. Sitting in front of my computer, wondering about life. I wish I could tell you that everything is well. That I'm healthy and happy. That my life has changed since last. No. Sorry, no change. Or maybe more pain and suffering.

Don't even know how long it's been since I've "talked" to you last, dear diary. I know, sounds quite desperate, I mean who talkes to their diary. Right? Well I do. I guess I do when I'm lonely and need to get stuff of my chest. Usually, that's also when I don't feel so great. I'm depressed, I guess it's time to name it. Instead of just going around and saying that I don't feel so well. I guess it's an understatement. Even depression is an understatement. But I don't know any other word for it. Don't know if there is a word for it. 

I guess some would say that I'm at the end. Where there's no way back. That I'm at the bottom. From where there's no way up. But with my life-experience I can't say that either. The bottom is quite a safe place, it's a place where one cannot fall any deeper.

I'm not safe. I'm never safe. That's what my life has thought me. It can always get worse. I know it's harsh, and not anything you want to hear, but sorry, it's my truth. Many say that it's the depression talking. That would be too easy. To blame it all on a sickness. 

Sure, some of my depression, if we want to call it that (I have a difficoult time with that word! :) ) is coloring my thoughts even worse than they would be otherwise. But there's a seed. 

My seed, was my sickness. It's soon ten years ago. 

I mean, everybody that has a serious, life threatning decease, is more or less depressed. It's the "normal" reaction to when things don't go right in one's life. I mean, if a person doesn't react at all when a serious sickness hits one in the face one beatiful day, then there's something abnormal. A person is not supposed to fall sick at a young age. But it happens. A young person is supposed to have their whole life ahead of them, full of opportunities and suprises. Some not so great, sure, but many great things.

But when youre 27 years old, a small babys mom, youre not supposed to be facing the fact that youre about to die, and start planning a funeral.

But life happens! 

And when life has happened that's when youre supposed to pick up the pieces and continue or start again. I've been trying to do that for almost ten years, with no avail.

And I'm so exhausted at fighting my way back to life. Even exhaustion doesn't describe it, it's more than that. It feels like I'm a soldier who has been at the warfront for way too many years. For so long that I don't even notice the bullets anymore. Don't notice whether the war is still going on or not. And I'm the only soldier. The enemy is hidden, you can't see them, but you know they are there, because you keep getting wounded. Maybe it's not much, a little cut here, a little scar there, but when you've been there for ten years, it's hard to even keep standing. But it's like I don't even have a choice, I've just been thrown there, to the middle of nowhere, all by myself. And it feels like I'm climbing a mountain like the Everest everyday, but I'm still not getting anywhere. Maybe I'm not in war after all, maybe I've died and gone to hell.

I actually saw a film where they suggested that there is no hell, but that the hell is when you live even though youre life is ruined. That's how it feels.

And as I said, I know this is not what you'de like to hear, but if I diden't tell you the truth, then who would? 

Today has felt like a whole lifetime. Just one day, that feels it's been going on forever. A grey and grissly day, a day when you can't really know whether or not the sun has even gone up.

 

Yours Adanne