Conversation with Myself

Me: I can't do this anymore.

Brain: Yes you can.

Me: No. I can't.

Brain: Yes. You. Can.

Me: You don't understand.

Brain: I do understand. I'm the only one who truly does understand.

Me: Fine. But I still HATE feeling this way and I can't do it anymore.

Brain: It will pass. You'll feel better tomorrow.

Me: No I won't. And so what if I do? It's just going to come back again another day.

Brain: You don't know that.

Me: Yes I do. It always comes back.

Brain: You make a good point.

Me: Thank you.

Brain: You're welcome. But still, it will pass before it comes back. There's a good day coming. Can't you just look forward to the good day?

Me: No.

Brain: Why not?

Me: What good is the good day when it's constantly being replaced by another bad day?

Brain: Well, the good days give you hope.

Me: No they don't. The good days suck just as much as the bad days. They make me depressed. The good days cause me to remember how I used to feel but don't anymore. They taunt me with a life I'll never have again. And they don't last. And when the good day is over and the bad days are back, I'm that much more upset because I have a nice freshly laundered memory of a life I no longer have.

Brain: That's not true.

Me: It's kind of true.

Brain: I guess. It's hard to argue with you when you are like this.

Me: So don't.

Brain: I can't just sit here and let you stew.

Me: Why not?

Brain: Because it doesn't make us feel good.

Me: We don't feel good anyway.

Brain: That's true. But we're trying to feel better.

Me: Well, it isn't working.

Brain: I hate it when you talk like that. 

Me: Well, too bad. It's how I feel.

Brain: We just need to focus on something else.

Me: I can't focus on something else.

Brain: Fine.

Me: Fine.

short pause

Me: Thanks for trying to make me feel better.

Brain: I love you.