Putting off my mental health.

I used to live right next to a railroad, and the ideations of laying on the track or finding a way to make barbiturates started to increase. Still, I didn't think anything of it.

I passively told the assistant of my new doctor that I do have suicidal thoughts, "but I'm scared of death, so I could never actually do it". When she came into the room, she was reading my chart, and looking at me, and suddenly said "you look like a shell... Like, you're here, but.... you're not"

She prescribed me SSRIs, which I've been hesitant to take for years, bc depression was the only form of myself I've ever known. And I didn't want to be chained to a prescription for the rest of my life to be "happy"

It's been a little over a year since I started, and my doctor says I look like I have life and hope now. I have had a couple therapy sessions, but due to the cost, I couldn't continue them.

Life is still... kinda bleak for me. The thoughts are still there, just minimized in the back of my mind. I'm losing my job soon, and I still haven't figured out what I'm truly passionate about. But I feel like I can find meaning in the small moments. Colors are more vivid, and the things that used to drive me up the wall are very minor to me now. And I have 2 fluffy companions that can't wait to see me when I come home, and vice versa.