I'm still here.  I'm just not feeling great.  And haven't had much to say.  I don't know why, but I've been feeling down lately.  I don't want to use the word "depressed" because depression is a serious illness.  And having people close to me who have suffered with depression... I don't use the word lightly.  Besides that I've never been diagnosed with depression.  So... I'm not saying "I'm depressed".  I'm just down right now and feeling sad for no reason... or maybe it's a million reasons?  So I'm still here.  Just trying to figure out a way to pick myself up out of this funk.  

I know in some cases, people with trich suffer from depression or anxiety.  Maybe that's me.  And maybe that person is you.  So while I'm on this subject... I want to share a book with you: "Not Alone, Stories Of Living With Depression."  Each chapter of this book is written by someone who has experienced depression in their lives.  The book is broken up into several categories: Awareness, Acceptance, Recovery, and Post-Depression Reflections.  My sister is one of the contributing authors; her story can be found in chapter 22, The Game of Life. 

Here's a peak at my sister's story:

Life didn't magically become better.  The life I knew was filled with instant gratification, fulfilling my emotions, wants, and desires.  I was in unfamiliar territory.  Could I really do this?  Just few days after I was discharged from rehab, I was staying at a hotel.  It was getting late and I couldn't sleep.  My mind was racing which was an all too familiar scenario.  Grabbing my new pack of Parliament Lights, I ran out of my room.  What I really wanted to do was run from my own thoughts.  I lit up a cigarette and broke down in tears.  Sitting on the cold sidewalk, I didn't even notice the other patrons passing me by.  Eventually I realized a man was knelt beside me.  "Are you okay," he said.  Hyperventilating I replied, "I'm fine."  He was not convinced.  As quickly as he stopped, he was gone.  His question pulled me out of that moment.  I looked down at a now half-empty pack of cigarettes, and I covered my face with my hands.  And I just whispered, "God, I need you."  I began to say it under my breath over and over and over.  The simple four-word prayer of "God, I need you," has become the simplest prayer I say everyday since that cold November night.

I don't know what's up with my emotions and feeling right now.  I don't know why I've feeling this way.  But I do know that my sister's prayer is mine too... God, I need you!