Precipice

It’s cooooming….
I am on that precipice, looking down, feeling my feet wobble and my knees tremble. The slightest breeze will push me over the edge and then it will be free fall until I go splat.
Every. fucking. year. I won’t go fully down the rabbit hole til Octoberish but it’s starting. I’ve learned to recognize the signs. No matter how hard I try to fight it…I get my ass kicked. I keep trying because submission is not in my nature. Depression doesn’t care, it just keeps beating you down until you don’t even realize the descent has started.

I am becoming hypersensitive, taking everything as some sort of insult or personal attack. I feel the suspicion boiling up, telling me no one gives a damn, they just tolerate me.
On one hand, I generally don’t care what others think.
On the other hand,I do care what I think and the shifting chemicals as summer draws closer to the end are sparking up the epic bucket of crazy.
How can something not bother me on Monday but my mood shifts and by Thursday the emotional shrapnel starts flying for no reason?
Example: When I was 17 and hanging with some male friends, they told me I was just one of the guys. I was flattered to be seen as more than my gender and some body parts to sexualize.
The other day, Kenny told me I’m just one of the guys and it kinda stung.
Another example: My friend Jason (RIP, dude) used to call me emasculator of men. I found it funny and not far from the truth when men did things worthy of being emasculated.
Kenny calls me a man hater because I have no problem declaring the belching and farting and sexism most men display asshole male traits. And it makes my two and a half feelings hurt a bit.

WTF is wrong with me? How can I take a simple statement and assume someone is insulting me or complaining about me? What makes me so apathetic or amused one day yet so defensive and fragile the next?
The only thing I can come up with is the yearly fall from grace. The change of the seasons that serve as prelude to the seasonal depression.
I had a good run of stability and thinking correctly.
Now it’s abandoning me all over again.
I’m hanging off the cliff, digging my fingernails into cling to the rock and not fall…
But someone is standing there, crushing each finger under their boot until I can no longer grasp and go flailing into the abyss that is mental illness.
My own mind is my worst enemy.

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