Blimey, two posts in one day! I thought this deserved a little post of its own as it's something that has crossed my mind several times over the past few days.
I find it really hard to accept that I am actually ill. I feel very guilty, lazy and unworthy, but not ill. My brain understands that depression is an illness, but my heart doesn't feel it. My heart doesn't feel much, to be honest.
I'm not sure how common this is, or how to give myself an easier time. I understand that rest is the best cure, but I almost can't allow myself to rest. Each time I sit crocheting or knitting, I feel as though I am wasting time, and I suspect that everyone is pissed off with me. And that makes me feel bad.
Is this part of the illness or am I going mad?
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