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It's Holy Week and I am feeling neither holy nor hopeful. The depression has been heavy like an anvil. I haven't wanted to take care of myself. I haven't wanted to reach out and communicate. I've just hidden away. Every now and then I poked my head out and posted on Facebook, but I'm so down that the tiniest comments in the negative cause bouts of crying.
I bought a new rose bush. It's supposed to be very dark roses. It's called "black rose", but even I can see it's a dark red.
I got new gnomes.
I turned 29 and Charlie turned 2.
I'm still alive.
