Depression and anxiety. There is mitigation; however, no true cure. The darkness and fear either loudly tap or softly rap at my door. Ever-present; ever to be dealt with. So many therapists; so many meds; so many “therapeutic hours ” – (45 minutes actually!); so much misunderstanding of the conditions I live with. Is this a pity party – perhaps; nevertheless, it is my reality. And another thing, – will Alzheimer’s claim me as it did my mother? Will I no longer be able to escape into books? Music? Dreary thoughts on a sunny day.