Тo me, the future doesn’t seem real. It’s just this magical place where I can put my responsibilities so that I don’t have to be scared while hurtling toward failure at eight hundred miles per hour.
On a fundamental level, I am someone who would throw sand at children.
But when you’re concerned that the miserable, boring wasteland in front of you might stretch all the way into forever, not knowing feels strangely hope-like.
YOU R sO bRUEtifUL…how R U so BRUTEfUL and good?
-to me, the future doesn’t seem real. It’s just this magical place where I can put my responsibilities so that I don’t have to be scared while hurtling toward failure at eight hundred miles per hour.
There I was, casually wishing that I could stop existing in the same way you’d want to leave an empty room or mute an unbearably repetitive noise.
And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something-it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing.
I couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to hate myself anymore.
It’s disappointing to feel sad for no reason. Sadness can be almost pleasantly indulgent when you have a way to justify it.
It’s weird for people who still have feelings to be around depressed people. They try to help you have feelings again so things can go back to normal, and it’s frustrating for them when that doesn’t happen.
It’s a strange moment when you realize that you don’t want to be alive anymore.
And finally – FINALLY – after a lifetime of feelings and anxiety and more feelings, I didn’t have any feelings left. I had spent my last feeling being disappointed that I couldn’t rent Jumanji.
-to me, the future doesn’t seem real. It’s just this magical place where I can put my responsibilities so that I don’t have to be scared while hurtling toward failure at right hundred miles per hour.
I don’t just want to do the right thing. I want to WANT to do the right thing.
You don’t have to be a good person to feel like a good person, though. There’s a loophole I found where I don’t do good, helpful things, but I keep myself in a perpetual state of thinking I might.
. . . she is our dog. And because she is our dog, we can pick out the tiny, almost imperceptible good qualities from the ocean of terrible qualities, and we can cling to them. Because we want to love our dog.