Have you ever tried to fly?
Sometimes, I wonder if some of us are just not supposed to ever really be happy. Or maybe it's just that depression is such a problem, right now, that suicide is just becoming another popular pastime. Personally, happy moments are fleeting, fluttering happenings that tend to stumble upon me during times that I'm at my darkest. It's like something in the universe is playing cat and mouse with my emotions. Just when I've decided to give up, here comes another happy happening to get me to the next shit storm. Is this how life's supposed to be?
I often entertain the idea that depression is a form of population control, which is developed in the womb while you're growing fingers and toes and nerve functions. I think some of us were born to die by our own hand. Maybe that's nature. Maybe I'm wrong.
And maybe it's unfair to blame genetics. I blame genetics because depression has been in my family for generations. Generations of medicated, whiny people have preceded me. Aren't I proud? I suppose I ought to be, seeing as I've turned into one of them. Why am I such a disgrace? Why is the world in such disgraceful disarray? What happened to us?
Optimists will tell you that this is all about a state of mind. If you focus on the good in your life, your depression will go away. And, sure, you try to do that. It sounds like a good plan. But it always catches back up with you. You can't have a moment alone without it sinking in, slowly immersing you back into your natural state. You can't ever just relax in your mind without being reminded about how much of a waste of breath you are.
It's ridiculous to think that any amount of therapy or medication could ever fix this when it never actually goes away.
I often entertain the idea that depression is a form of population control, which is developed in the womb while you're growing fingers and toes and nerve functions. I think some of us were born to die by our own hand. Maybe that's nature. Maybe I'm wrong.
And maybe it's unfair to blame genetics. I blame genetics because depression has been in my family for generations. Generations of medicated, whiny people have preceded me. Aren't I proud? I suppose I ought to be, seeing as I've turned into one of them. Why am I such a disgrace? Why is the world in such disgraceful disarray? What happened to us?
Optimists will tell you that this is all about a state of mind. If you focus on the good in your life, your depression will go away. And, sure, you try to do that. It sounds like a good plan. But it always catches back up with you. You can't have a moment alone without it sinking in, slowly immersing you back into your natural state. You can't ever just relax in your mind without being reminded about how much of a waste of breath you are.
It's ridiculous to think that any amount of therapy or medication could ever fix this when it never actually goes away.
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