I understand its a disease, I know what it feels like to be ‘depressed’. But with me, it never lasts long. And I term it as being ‘sad’ or ‘low’, or just having bad day really. I am always able to pick myself up and get the fuck on with my life. As ‘awful’ as i may think a situation is sometimes – in reality I have the choice to let that take me down or push me forward. My life is actually wonderful. its amazing. its beyond my wildest dreams. I can sweat the small stuff, and complain about the shit that pisses me off daily, but the truth is I am blessed. And I know it. And most of the time I am grateful.
If I was a victim of life — I would be depressed. If I allowed circumstances or situations or other people determine my happiness – I would be depressed. That’s why I am not, because being depressed is easy – you don’t have to do much. Just sit around and complain. Never take responsibility, never take risks. Just sit and rot in a comfort zone.
What a gross way to live.
There are two kinds of people I despise in this world and those are
Don’t get me wrong I am not happy all the time, and I complain. But I don’t use those times to make excuses for my responsibilities.
I show up. Every day. Despite myself.
This post is a manifestation of a resentment I have. Writing about it will hopefully release its power over me.
In the words of Charlie Brown: