Trudging Through Tar

Hey. Today, I'm supposed to be writing about journaling and the different ways to get started. But right now I'm about ready to just curl up in my bed and ride out a shitty bout of self-hatred. I know, I know, I'm supposed to be over this by now, right? Wrong. I'm pretty much stuck with this stupid disease for the rest of my life (probably), and right now I'm pretty fucking sick of it.

I'm tired of the struggle, of the pain, of the upswings where I look around and realize that everything I've felt so sad about is silly, and then the anxiety behind the knowledge that I'm going to slip face-first into the tar pit of despair again when I least expect it (like today), and then the aforementioned slip itself. Right now I just want to give up. To go to sleep and not wake up...

But I can't. I know that on a long-term sort of scale, I'll get better--even if only for about a day or two--and then I'll do something that makes this stupid life worth it; be it a blog post, a helpful comment on reddit, or even just holding the door open for someone who really needed a little bit of kindness that day. Because, you see, no one lives in a vacuum. No matter how much you try to isolate yourself, someone is affected by what you do for better or worse. Little actions lead to big results that, honestly, you may never see, but they are there. You matter. I matter. As much as I wish I didn't...

So trudge on I shall. Although, right now I'm just going to lay down with the covers over my head until I can stop crying long enough to distract myself (probably with video games). I'm not going to lie, depression sucks. Big time.

Hang in there, friends. It gets better.