A good deal of my life has been wasted on depression, which of course doesn't make for a good story. I've been withering away in near isolation and reflection for really the past decade... quite a long time when you're in your early twenties. It's a horribly boring story, and certainly not uplifting or interesting. I've had blogs running through bits of that, which I imagine no one cared to read much. I'm rather sick of it myself.
It's time for a different story.
I don't know how to describe where I am right now, because I feel so many things at once. Hopeful and free and tied down and run down and part of me is certain that I'll just crash and burn in the end while another is sure that I will rise above this. The best I can say is that this is me, not in denial but not drowning. I am learning how to face my demons without being consumed by them.
And as I write this, I can't help but feel like it's a load of drivel. Hopefully by the time anyone sees this, there will be better things before it. The thing is, I have to believe that I am worth more to the world than I feel like I am. That's my working hypothesis, anyway. Which means that while this may all feel like garbage for a while, I can't pay attention. Because hopefully I'm wrong, and I'll never know if I remain in a shell as I feel I should.