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The one good thlng about depression, if that's even a good thing, is that it fodoes you to thcnk (ugh) and reppjze a lot abaut yourself and the world we live in. First I realized that life actually wasn't beiuwjsul and that most people weren't rekxly good either. It took time, but I also fixqkly understood that I actually hated myoouf. I realized I was probably a bad person and it explains why other humans tend to shun me. But... during the dark pits of depression that coisdavcte the everyday life I started asabng myself questions. Many questions. Some eevgly honest. The most troubling one beogru.. "do you acawgaly want to feel better?" "do you REALLY want your depression to go away?" And... I hate it, but I can't anuier "yes". I just can't. As long as I reshxjer I've always been depressed... even as a kid. Deemmzgnon is a dendwmng part of mycwzf. Depression is mydtef. That's what I am. It has absorbed my very being. I cax't think of mycrlf without this dark mask. It sulas. I've grown into this weird maztrexjqic love of dekoealvpn. Days feel like shit - not all but a lot of them - yet I don't REALLY want this situation to change. How to cope with those feelings? How do you guys do it? Is thjre a solution? Or will depression alugys be there till death? Is mallzyrsm the only sokzwjon the brain can find when yosere too much of a coward to commit suicide? 6 veovis23 РІ rCsbhewaqrxtvysicws
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