Wednesday, September 3, 2014


        The reality is that most of what I write isn't worth sharing. This isn't a shot at me, exactly. More like a shot at my current place as a writer. And as a human being. I know that some people move through depression and, if anything, become better creators for it; I am not one of them. And yet, a small piece of me can't help but hope that there's some good to be gained by writing on my little corning of the internet. My tiny little drop in the ocean of writing out there...

          I started school again about a week ago. I had taken Spring and Summer off after a very bad semester last fall, in hopes of getting on top of my mental health. That... didn't really happen. I'm still suffering. I'm better, but not so much better that I feel secure. I will probably crash again. I will hate myself, and I will feel completely numb, and I will be in near physical pain.

          What changed is the idea that that's okay. 

          For a long time, my life has revolved around pain. Experiencing pain, avoiding pain, fighting pain, being happy because of lack of pain. But this isn't effective. If I hate myself for whatever reason, and I try to mentally argue my way out of it, I only summon more negative thoughts to back it up. It's a waste of time and energy. Avoiding with comfort food and Netflix and desperately clinging to company beyond my own mind only makes my life - and therefore my mood - worse.

          And then I can't feel much joy, because my greatest aspirations have been reduced to things to do in order to cope. My mindset is such that it seems I can't aspire to more than neutral. To not be in pain. For a long time, my greatest goal has been "stop being depressed." Somehow, that doesn't seem healthy. It doesn't seem very useful to have negative goals in the first place. The "don't"s and the "stop"s.

            I'm still sad. I'm still in pain. I still don't really believe that I have any worth, or that anyone not connected to me by blood could ever love me. But that's okay.

             Because what really matters is that I strive for those things that matter to me. That's where my energy should go, not feeling bad about being depressed, or fighting things that only seem to get stronger for being fought. This is the truth that a majority of self-help and motivational quotes and such don't get. "Think positively." "Love yourself." No.

             I'm still scared. But I know rationally that there's every reason to think that I can pull off a good semester, if I keep my wits. I know that this is where I'm meant to be. And that's really as far as I need to go. If demons keep wanting to come up claiming that I'm not good enough, that I'll fall on my face, that I'll never amount to anything no matter how much education I get... they can go yell in the corner while I do my homework.

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