I am getting better, and if anyone, that makes me happy. The waters of futurama (the concept) feel cleansing. There's no particular catharsis, as washing a wound does not heal it, but I have been easily moving forward. After meetings with my guidance counselor and attendance that is close to restored, I believe that things are getting better.
No, I didn't finish the fucking novel, but I did give it a shot, and I don't foresee my writing to cease as it is now December 1st.
There are good things ahead, even for the optimistic depressive.
Consistency is key.
So it goes.