I’ve had bouts with depression and to a lesser extent anxiety for well over a decade now. Lately I can feel myself slipping again. Those nibbling little thoughts, like whispers.

The ones that never let you forget every forget every flaw and failure you have. Make you see yourself far lesser than you are.

Hell lately I’ve been using writing as an outlet to shore up the defences almost to an absurd degree. I am happy if even only a dozen people appreciate my stories.

But every little set back or negative comment or mean message I feel the few embers of joy i get from writing being snuffed out. I already have lost my enjoyment reading and i don’t want to lose the last few anchors i have left

It just feels like the more i fight the more of me i lose till eventually there will be nothing left.