Please forgive the self-righteous self-indulgence
It’s an easy thing to believe that depression isn’t real when life is going well. Just some positive thinking should be enough to counteract all of the negatives. This is how I see life most of the time. It often amazes me at how many people are permanently pessimistic and thoroughly unhappy with their lot. How can this occur? How can someone be so miserable with everything?
It’s much easier to understand/believe in depression when I’m in a funk. I’ve let stress affect me too much today and I’m feeling it like a giant weight on my back. I’m mad and scared and frustrated and definitely had too much caffeine earlier today. Obstacles seem to only get higher and more difficult, so much so that they seem near impossible. I have no idea how I’m going to make it through September 14th. If I were a drinker, now would be when I’d attempt to drown my sorrows.
So, I give a bit more empathy to all of those that do suffer from depression, whether real or contrived. If what I feel now were to continue on without any foreseeable end, I would probably feel even more miserable than I currently do.
Luckily, I have hope. I have the knowledge that with tomorrow I have a new beginning and a day to make better than this one. Most worries, fears, and frustrations that are so strong now will be like mere shadows, half-forgotten and trivial. I know that a good night’s sleep will have a positive influence on my outlook.
Which means I should just go to bed.
I don’t want to. I want to wallow in my own self-pity and anger. Feel my jealousy build and sense of self-righteousness take over. To be this writhing pit of despair, mocking the world for not understanding my pain. My anguish. The absolute torment that embodies my existence on this planet.
Expressing my thoughts upon this screen is very therapeutic. It allows me to see just how silly/ridiculous/obnoxious I can be. It doesn’t change the situation I am in, but it does change how I’m looking at the situation and myself. It may have cheered me up a little.
Okay. Now it’s time for good ol’ fashioned bed-time.
It’s much easier to understand/believe in depression when I’m in a funk. I’ve let stress affect me too much today and I’m feeling it like a giant weight on my back. I’m mad and scared and frustrated and definitely had too much caffeine earlier today. Obstacles seem to only get higher and more difficult, so much so that they seem near impossible. I have no idea how I’m going to make it through September 14th. If I were a drinker, now would be when I’d attempt to drown my sorrows.
So, I give a bit more empathy to all of those that do suffer from depression, whether real or contrived. If what I feel now were to continue on without any foreseeable end, I would probably feel even more miserable than I currently do.
Luckily, I have hope. I have the knowledge that with tomorrow I have a new beginning and a day to make better than this one. Most worries, fears, and frustrations that are so strong now will be like mere shadows, half-forgotten and trivial. I know that a good night’s sleep will have a positive influence on my outlook.
Which means I should just go to bed.
I don’t want to. I want to wallow in my own self-pity and anger. Feel my jealousy build and sense of self-righteousness take over. To be this writhing pit of despair, mocking the world for not understanding my pain. My anguish. The absolute torment that embodies my existence on this planet.
Expressing my thoughts upon this screen is very therapeutic. It allows me to see just how silly/ridiculous/obnoxious I can be. It doesn’t change the situation I am in, but it does change how I’m looking at the situation and myself. It may have cheered me up a little.
Okay. Now it’s time for good ol’ fashioned bed-time.