Sometimes it does not have to be about depression. Not just a chemical thing. Sometimes it is a soul thing. A someone just came up and ripped my heart out thing. This makes people sad. It made me sad. Sometimes it does not have to be about meds or doctors. Sometimes it is about our emotional hearts, the ones that break so painfully and never show on the outside or on an x-ray. The kind that slowly keeps on hurting long after any physical pain would have abated. The kind that leave the scars that no one ever sees. But they know they exist because it shows in your eyes. At least if you are human it does. I am having this kind of pain now. I do not want to hear about my meds. I do not want to hear that it is part of a disease. I was hurt, mortally, at least in the emotinal sense by someone I loved and trusted. Betrayed. I really just want someone to tell me that eventually this pain will ease. That I will be able to breathe again without it searing my chest. I need to know someone loves me. Love, Michele
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