The latter part of my childhood and all of my adulthood has been draped in a heavy, wet towel of sadness. I truly don't know why. Not a day goes by that I don't devote a thought to it.
A pity party that goes on and on and on.
Most of the therapists I've visited with have delivered the same message. YOU have to work to get out of this. But the reality is—I'm too tired. A certain amount of mental energy must be exerted to do battle. In depression's arsenal, its most effective strategy is to wear down its subject. This can only be accomplished with large amounts of time.
I do realize the answer is within. It can only come from myself. But this heaviness has taken its toll and I find it daunting to muster the energy to fight. Each day, I'm just that more tired.