Depression Is a Funny Thing...

When I look at somebody, and I see in their eyes, that they're sad, or depressed, or lonely, I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say, but I do know that if they don't feel better by the end of our conversation, that something bad could happen to then any amount of minutes after we wave goodbye and walk down that hallway or road back to where we were going. I know that I need to help them in some way, and make them know they're important. Now, I know I have a friend, who called me yesterday, in tears. I don't know why she's depressed, or crying and calling suicide hotlines, but I know that I love her, and that she's asking me for help. I feel like all my friends have been asking me for help. Truth is, I don't know what to do, I just know I have to be there. Because I have the same feelings that they do, I want to cry, break down, I want to do things to myself that I would smack any number of my friends for doing. But I can't. I have to be strong, and I have to do what I have to do to be happy.

I mean, that's not very much anymore. I've been feeling so alone lately, I just don't feel like I have anyone to tell me, "hey it'll be alright, okay?" and pat my back reassuringly giving me a gigantic hug and telling me I'm awesome and not to over stress, whatever. It's probably also my fault, because I don't want to talk about my problems, they're not important. Like, there are so many other people out there, with bigger problems that my own. I shouldn't worry about my problems, I should make other people worry about my problems, because there is always somebody in a worse situation that would look at me and laugh for pissing and moaning about my problems. I know I can handle my problems, maybe not in all healthy ways, but I know I can. I mean, I've only done it for all my life, what's the difference if this time I just have way more stress because I'm trying to become a adult? Exactly, there isn't a difference, I brought this on myself.

I mean, some things have happened to me, through out December that haven't exactly been the best things that can happen in somebody's life, but I know that it's my problem, and you guys probably don't care. I mean, shit, my mom doesn't even believe me that any of it happened. But it's my problem because I don't want to go to the police, I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to burden other people's minds by sharing my person shitty problems on here, in real life, or anything. All it does is get me laughed at, and shut down. Or people just flat out ignore me talking and continue to talk bout how bad their life is because their brother's an asshat who wines and bitches and complains if the garbage bags smell funny. And, well, who could deny a story that interesting over some boring, depressing rape story- or domestic abuse story.

Quite frankly, I'd rather talk about stinky garbage bags, who wants to remember shitty ex boyfriends anyways? They can blow me. They hurt me, but they're gone now, and if they come around, I have my family next door with revolvers, pistols, shotguns and a M4A1 something or other big pretty Call Of Duty gun who can take care of them the minute they step onto my property.

Jesus, that's a long blog. I talked your ear off.

Have a nice day guys, remember, YOU are important. You are always important to someone, whether it be your cat Gigi or you dad or even me, you're important. And I love you. Okay? And if anyone ANYONE reading this, ever wants or needs to talk, just message me. I don't care if you live in England and I've never met you in my life. Talk to me, okay? I'm here for you.

Sometimes talking is the thing people need to do more of to survive.
January 29th, 2015 at 02:53pm