I don't recall who the asshole was who said something to the effect that when you're depressed, you feel miserable because nothing matters (or because you matter to nobody else). Whatever, jackass. I know that there are many things/people/issues that matter to me, and I know for sure that I matter to some people.
But I still get depressed sometimes.
What I find even more depressing when I'm already depressed is when I realize that the issues I'm upset about don't mean fuck butter in the greater context of my life. I mean, why the hell should I be bothered by things like feeling fat and a shitty writing style, when there are so many others for which I should be thanking my lucky constellation?
At this point, I think I should make one thing clear: my feelings of worthlessness and self-criticism DO NOT in any way lessen my deepest gratitude for all the goodness in my life. Sure, I hate myself and curse whatever the fuck I want to curse about myself sometimes. But that doesn't mean I ♥ my belovéds any less or that I become less thankful for their existence whenever I'm depressed. I'm talking about the people I love aside from my family: my friends.
They help fill the void that threatens to consume me sometimes. Instead of being sucked into my mental black hole, they pull me out. And the wonderful thing is that many times they don't even realize that they make me feel a whole lot better just by giving me something as simple as a kind remark, a joke, a smile, a touch. By trying to make me laugh, by just listening -- by just being there -- they save me from myself.
If you're either an acquaintance or someone I don't know, I'd like to thank you for reading this post (and other entries in this blog). I hope I didn't scare you shitless or anything like that. My mind may be all fucked up, but I'm harmless (usually). Feel free to come back. It's roomy here.
If, on the other hand, you're a friend of mine, somebody I've known even before I made this blog and with whom I've shared my thoughts and experiences... thank you. You deserve a sainthood nomination for being such a good pal who willingly plows through what I type in here when there are so many other, better blogs that you could be reading instead. My writing might be boring, it might be crappy, but it's never just bullshit. It's a reflection of who I am, the way I think, and how I feel.
Thanks again, mes amis. I can only hope that I'm half as good a friend to you as you are to me. My love to you.