Pills. Ups. Downs. More pills. More downs.

  This is the stage in the treatment of my depression, and in the post- 'failed-search-for-roots'; when I should start feeling better, throw my darkness into the winds, embrace life and forget my rotten past. Well, that's just not happening. I'm beginning to wonder when the feel good part is going start. I've forgotten what it is like to smile. Not just a 'camera-smile'. A true one, out of real happiness.

Looking back, what saddens me is that it isn't as if I've gotten nowhere at all. I have come forward a lot since all this started 3 years ago. I've learnt a bit about how life works, friends, relationships, how to prioritise, how to control my sadness, how to channelise my anger into my work, how to hold it in sometimes to avoid upsetting my parents. The fact is that all this doesn't seem to count anywhere at all! I don't feel any better. I still manage to alienate my friends, lash out in anger at my little brother, collapse into depression when I'm needed the most by friends, in college etc.

This is one point I had held onto, repeating it to myself, trying to convince myself that not managing to find my biological mother doesn't mean that this period shadowed by anguish and angst has been all in vain. I tell myself I've grown up, matured through my pain, maybe even become a better person..? Who knows.

Now what do I tell myself; when even that collapses around me. I'm back to the beginning. Yearning for my roots, enveloped in depression, lost in myself, isolated within my own mind, my fears, my anger, my desire to break out, and my reluctance to do the same. I'm crushed in defeat as I realise I'm back to square one.