The Space

So I've been doing a lot of thinking and reading for the past 2.5 months. Conclusion?
I don't think I'm getting any better, mentally speaking of course (of course). No, I know I'm not getting any better.
Yes, I am medicated, but I'm beginning to notice how I am forgetting to take my meds again. (not good, I need to be paying more attention to my life and making better life choices) Not only that, but I think I need to seek out further counsel.
I haven't told my physician just the extent of this 'depression' and have been in still continued denial about suicidal thoughts whenever it comes time to actually reveal for diagnosis. When he asks if I have suicidal thought, I immediately scoff and say no. Again, why do we always feel the need to lie or cover up the ugly truth?
I think because once you actually say it out loud to someone, it actually becomes cold hard truth. And as I always say, once you say something, it's out there and you can never take it back.
And the major possibility of something actually being wrong with you is a startling thought. But I think for me, the idea of the possibility that something really isn't wrong is more frightening, because then how would you even begin to justify all the loathed drama and trauma?
I need to start making better life choices.