Being ok with not feeling ok..

As much as I hate to admit it to myself, I'm definitely not ok with being depressed.  I struggle with it on
a moment to moment, hour to hour, day to day basis.  I think part of this lack of acceptance is making things worse.  I'm never really comfortable with my experience.

Why should I be?  We live in a fix it world, there has to be some supplement, some medication some magical thought, a mantra that can wash this all away.

What if there isn't? What if this is something that I'm going to have to live with, for extended periods of time?  How can I embrace this experience, the long hours of nothingness and sadness?
How can I justify being here? Am I only worthy if I feel connected and happy?

How can I accept sitting on the sidelines of life, and not really participating?

What if I don't really have a choice? What if this really is the best I can do right now, just go through the motions and take some satisfaction in the small labours I complete?

Can I accept that this is it for me right now?

Its really hard.  I have family members voices and positive psychology telling me that I can just adopt a positive attitude, or believe in my own power to change the situation.  That mind is more powerful than the body.

There's nothing situationally wrong to fix.  I don't know why I feel this way. Being told I'm bipolar only helps so much. There's still no physical test that can prove that there's something wrong.

I'm not ok with any of this, and that's sinking my spirits even lower.  I don't like the quiet, mellow, passive person I am right now, and that's making things worse.

I don't know why I hate my depressive side so much.  She gets up everyday, and tries to make a difference, tries to heal. She goes to countless doctors appointments and therapy sessions.  She walks, runs, she eats well. She keeps doing the next right thing, even if it doesn't make much difference.
 

She goes about her life so empty and alone, but she keeps going. She silently endures the disappointment, the frustration, and the insufferable weight of this illness. She keeps fighting, she keeps trying.

I've tried everything I can think of to pull myself out of this, and I'm still here waiting for some improvement.  I don't have a lot of hope, but I know we're all there for some reason, and that if I'm still here, still breathing, then my story isn't over.

It just sucks being stuck in this moment, and I don't like this chapter very much.  Recovery seems like
such a lofty goal, that all I really want is to find some compassion, some understanding for myself.  I want to just accept what I'm going through, and learn of be ok with not feeling ok.