The familiar fog of my depression is slowly creeping back upon me along with it's close companion self-doubt. I'm doing well right now, I'm stable, I've started working out but I can almost hear my body slowing down as the cogs in the machine that is my body are clogged by lethargy. Reminders of my deep-rooted self-hatred are sitting on the edge of the slowly forming abyss in my mind, drifting in with idle thoughts of suicide and self-harm. I don't want to hurt myself, I don't hate myself, but it's almost as though the more I chant this mantra, the larger the abyss grows, and the louder the demons within it scream their persuasive suggestions otherwise. I haven't given up yet, but the temptation to is tauntingly beautiful- it would be so easy to just let go and drown in my abyss of sorrows.