Despite medicine, or maybe because of it, I start hating myself and my life again. Like I've often told myself, my life is my own fault. It's hard to get past the truth. For someone who considers himself reasonably intelligent, I've made some really stupid mistakes.
The good news here is I'm always able to get over it and feel okay again. Writing helps a lot, even some of my darker stuff - and so does activity. You lay around a lot, it's easy to think bad thoughts.
So, even though I want to just go lay down, I'll try to do something useful, even if it's just loading the dishwasher.
My thoughts go out to all of you, and I hope this helps someone.
Hope everyone has a great day.