Lately, when the sun descends, so does my jovial mood. I should be used to the melancholia, yet am not. There are no reasons for a nocturnal shift, but I try to find them, still.
In the past week alone, two women have ended their lives by leaping in front of a train. I often pass the exact location that saw their last breath. I try to move past thoughts of them, but find it difficult. I fear becoming them, ending my life on a whim.
If a thing has a will to live, then it may come to live twice. So I ask, do I have a will of my own?
My Al-Anon sponsor has suggested antidepressants. I have taken that route before, and saw little benefit. I say that I am fine, and it is the stars that should be blamed. It is when they make their appearance that I am lost.
My blood is all nicotine and caffeine, but I reject the idea of a chemical joy.
There are many things that this sponsor of mine says, that I do not agree with. It is my reluctance to truly surrender that brings me pain. It is that I must admit defeat. It is that my faith in god is all form and no content. It is that I am not bold in general, only in attack, which occurs at the slightest provocation.