...because I don't think they'd understand.

Last night felt like a negative blast from the past as I laid in bed with tears streaming down the edges of my face for a reason that's still enigmatic to me. It hasn't happened since December and I've been fine since, trying to ignore how I feel sometimes like everybody does. Last night I think things got to me a little more than they usually do, and I couldn't help but to let it out. Weeping and talking about it did the trick but I can't help feeling that it would feel better right now if I'd have gone outside and shouted my heart out.

Unlike the last time this happened, there was someone there to catch my fall and help me out of a spiralling blackhole of depressive thoughts. Feeling content is something that I wish I could have all the time, but alas I know that's something to appreciate when you've got it.

Luckily I know things will be okay in time, and this experience reminds me how I can't just assume everything's better now - it's still there and I'm working around it. It's a steady slope upwards, but I know it'll get better.

Apologies for the melodrama.