The change my father has undergone is so apparent even my grandma (almost blind) saw it. For three days I was almost persuaded it was a miracle. Now I see the real reason of all this and I can't help feeling sorry for him (for the first time in my life?). His mania has finished and a new period of depression decided to visit his head for the first time in two years. He's so helpless he even agreed to visit his former psychiatrist who greeted him by saying "the return of a lost sinner" (or something similar).
He's just taken the first pill. And didn't even protest much. I hope it'll help him. He needs it and I completely understand because I know such feelings too well.
But on the other hand there's still some bitterness in me and I don't think it'll ever vanish completely. One could imagine a better childhood than this one. But when I think about it... it could also be far worse.
Be grateful to every day given to you... Nice sentence but it won't help anyone in their depression because that's a state that can't be fixed so easily. I always hate people talking about how "depressed" they are when they don't have any idea really about what a real depression is. I don't say I'm somehow special because there are too many people experiencing this all the time in this mad world. But these people usually don't use the term "depressed". I do because I like to give everything its right name.
Hmmm... Again a post about nothing.
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