blondie073's Journal

110 days.

That's pretty far, isn't it?

I don't think I'm over depression. My mom keeps saying it's gone and how she's glad I beat it, but I remind her constantly that it's still there and it's still a part of me. The other day, this was our conversation.

Me (while watching a commercial): Oh, that's so depressing!

Mom: You're over that, though, the depression. It's done now.

Me: It's always going to be a part of me, mom. I'm never going to get rid of it. I still had bad days and I have good days.

Mom: Well, I had depression when I was your age, and I got over it fast.

Me: There are different types and degrees of depression, mom. Some people recover, some don't.

Mom: You're done with it though.

Isn't that sad? I wish she could see what I'm trying to say. I feel bad when I'm not better, because everyone has said how proud they are of me and I feel like they're going to be disappointed when they find out I'm still screwed up.

At least Emma is still there for me. She's amazing. She's my best friend right now. I love her.