reflections (ii)

i now realise that it wasn’t the ptsd symptoms that were bothering me 3 years back; it was seasonal depression.
not having enough energy to get out of bed, feeling hopeless all the time, not being able to read or study, everything seems to be linked to depression. or maybe, it is simply ptsd that is hitting me again.
every time i feel productive or proud of myself, something unpleasant happens and my life suddenly becomes so difficult that i begin to feel it isn’t worth living. my happiness journals become tough to fill with me forgetting almost everything good that might’ve happened in the past 24/48 hours. a weird sort of an envy crawls under my skin and makes me realise that almost everyone i know is doing much, much better. to make matters worse, the deepest, darkest memories of my past come back until i feel nothing but ashamed of how immature my coping mechanisms have been since 2020.
i don’t know when it’ll all get better for me. i have no idea if i’ll ever recover. all i know is that i can’t and don’t want to live like this anymore.