Tinged with Despair

A doctor once told me that people with depression ride a roller coaster.
Most days I do pretty well. Some days I honestly wish I was dead. Other days are simply tinged with despair.

This might sound dramatic (and in the interest of full disclosure I started college as a drama major) but no, it really is my life. On the hard days I cut myself no slack. I find little to be satisfied with. 
Not going to lie, I feel sorry for myself.
Brooding on old sorrows and new.  Looking for answers so long in coming.
Asking old questions, feeling the old frustrations as new.

You remember the old cartoons where the main character gets mad and kicks the anvil thereby hurting only himself? That's what living is feeling like for me lately. I wish there was someone to blame. But depression wasn't gifted to me like the fairy godmother's gave gifts to the princess it was passed down unwittingly in my genes.

So pain equals growth huh? Well damn I should be on a mount somewhere giving out loaves and fishes! Instead I'll get up in the morning and put my youngest on a plane to study abroad for a year.
Then return to figuring it out. So not thrilled.