 I can usually correlate my depressive episodes and my Reddit use. So here I am. 

This year has been the most confusing of my life so far. This year has lead me to many things. A career I love, full of promise. I no longer seek the constant crutch that is antidepressants. I feel content in the emotional growth I have made through countless hours of therapy. I have made new and meaningful friendships. 

Despite this, depression rears its ugly head again; and it feels like it was for nothing. Three deaths this year have been compounded by a cruel final blow which has seen perhaps the best human I've ever know, sick, in a coma, cruelly struck down by a brutal act of God. Therefore, I drink. 

The depression enters. Slowly at first. Sad thoughts throughout the day. A drink is no longer a fun social release. A new crutch has emerged. You lay in bed, thinking about everything, it's cruel. You're tired. I'm tired, so so so tired. 

It hides itself. You stay your jovial, ever positive self amongst your colleagues and peers. "Happy Go Lucky" , "Never a bad day"; recycled lines creating the illusion of progress everyone who knows you is so proud of you for. 

And the depression becomes internalised. 

You suffer alone, silently. Locking yourself away. Drinking alone. Fighting with the medication readily available. Work becomes harder. Socialising becomes harder. You forgo the events. Miss friends birthdays and weddings. The loneliness appears. 

This is the path I've trodden so many times. Yet despite all the tools at my disposal, coupled with my self awareness, I am completely incapable of doing anything about it. 

This is depression, and it hurts me so much. 

From a point where my future looked so bright, the only thing I can see is darkness. Alcoholism and it's sweet embrace, slowly rotting my body, so I can be with the people I dearly love. 

I don't want to die, but I don't want to live. I'm lost in limbo, with my old pal depression the sole constant.