Breathe...

...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out...

Two days and a wake-up and I will be under a scalpel. Again. The knot in my stomach is twisting and growing to the point I feel like throwing up.

I am afraid I am putting too much faith that this surgery alleviates 'some' of the depression I have been buried under for too long. There are research studies showing that this DOES happen - just not for everybody. I feel the same amount of faith that my energy will, well, that I might actually have some. Energy. Finally. It is as though I have been sleeping through life. Scratch that - I HAVE slept most of my life away.

Now I pray, with everything I have, that a voice will emerge from somewhere in the darkness and tell me, "Everything will be okay".

Will it?