I don't know what to say. Fuck it.  


TL;DR: Despite a lot of effective depression treatment, a shadow looms and a plague spreads in the west. I am too weak to fight and would rather fail than be captured, but my cat gives me reason to concede.

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I will try to keep my thoughts concise.   
I have been depressed for ten years. My condition slowly worsened over time despite ongoing and varying levels of treatment from the start. I finally received TMS therapy recently, and it did help a lot. It felt like the river has changed directions in my favor; I am no longer swimming upstream.   


I hesitate to describe how I feel now, maybe relieved and tired, like I finally reached the top of the mountain with the boulder I pushed up. I can finally stop and take a look at the view and breathe. There is a stench in the air I can not seem to place. When I focus I see despair on the horizon. 

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I am told my interests, ideas, beliefs and ideals are all incompatible with reality. I have focused so much on self-awareness and constructing a solid but repairable foundation for me to build this house. For so long I was trapped with self-hatred and confusion, so I chiseled away at my ego and personality to create art from this boulder I have been pushing. I created a statue standing with conviction. I feel like this was a mistake.

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I am always internally angry, weirdly stubborn, and often defiant. On the other hand I am an empath, stupidly patient, and debilitatingly inquisitive. I remain openminded, I accept new data and create my opinions from there. I can be guided by emotion and logic. I have worked more than I thought possible on 'defining' subjective and objective. Here lies a tremendous issue with how I once tried to cope. I tried to 'cull' my subjectivity (beliefs, interests, etc.) for the sake of preserving the objective truths that didn't sit well with me. I believed doing so would grant me the ability to forgo my emotions and feelings to focus on pushing through life's artificial hardships. The culling only intensified my subjectivity, so I have come to learn.

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Considering all of these things which I now know about myself and the realities which plague me, I do not see a way to participate in this existence without abusing my subjectivity. The only feasible scenario for an existence I can barely tolerate already seems out of touch to many. I fear there is no reconciliation between my subjectivity and some of the world's seemingly objective matters. I would like to see the sledgehammer they bring to try and tear down this foundation I made for myself. Pushing myself past my emotions to participate in a system which disagrees with everything I believe and value seems like a quick path to my life's two-week notice.   


99% of me says, "Fuck this shit, fuck you, peace out" and only 1% says, "Do it for your cat."   


I was recently allowed to discontinue an effective anxiety medication, with the option to use as needed. Yesterday, I peaked at 9.9 on the anxiety scale and I popped one back for the first time since I quit and it knocked me out 1.5 hours later. It's effects wore off earlier today. All of this panic and depressive spiraling, because I had to make an important decision that relied on this '99% fuck this, 1% cat' feeling I can not seem to throw away. I will feel absurdly distraught and dreadful the entire time I participate in these unagreeable activities and duties. I will not be healthy or stable.

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I would much rather not suffer. I believe a lot of people can agree with a that statement. I am the obstacle in this equation, because the other side is immovable. I do not believe I have the strength to continue pushing this boulder-turned-statue around. I looked around and there was another peak to climb. My statue, my foundation, comes with me. If I chisel anymore, I lose parts of me. If I break this foundation, I will not feel safe staying in the house above. I do not think I would even make it out alive from a '1984' style 'corrections' facility. I would rather die with conviction than exist without my foundation. My cat is the only thing stopping me from running away to test these 200,000+ years of human evolution. If I do disappear, just know I ran away as my last option before ending my existence.

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I now feel marginally better and more capable of tackling some trivial and sometimes menial aspects of my existence, yet I do not imagine this dread will disappear any time soon. 

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I would keep going, but for everyone's sanity I will stop here. I've been mostly lurking on reddit for nearly 11 years and I figured I would add my echo to the chamber. Try your best to conciliate me, best of luck. I don't know how my therapist puts up with me, shout out to him.