I continue to be better, and on a little bit less Zyprexa as well. Meanwhile, life goes on. Work. My apartment still a mess from weeks of not being okay. My grandmother in the hospital.
The problem with coming out of a depression is that I have let my life become such a mess, that is almost too hard to climb out of, sometimes. How to get caught up with everything I have let go- and not let that struggle pull me back in as I judge myself for letting things come to this.
The scary thing is, I know there is nothing I know of that will prevent me from going to those bad places again. Once I thought the meds would stop it- but they didn't. They just seem to help me come out of it quicker than simply waiting it out (which has been tried, believe me). But I know my world will go dark again, and whatever life I build will start to fall apart again. And the dreams I have will again seem like nothing but heavy stones, weighing me down.
So all I can do is to try to make the most of this time, and hope that the more I can build up my life, the less it will fall totally apart during my next dark time.
Of course, someday I may have had my last depression. Either I will die depressed, or someday I will have had my last depression. It would be nice to know which, but I guess you don't get to know that in advance.