“you’re too pretty to be depressed” since when does ones outward appearance affect the way that they feel internally? since when does bad mental health decide to only affect those that generally aren’t “pretty”? and who the fuck are you or anyone else to define “pretty” as a whole?
depression is real. depression is ugly. and it doesn’t give a shit what you look like. i’ve been diagnosed with manic depression and a severe anxiety disorder most of my life. i can’t remember a before a doctor said “oh this is what’s wrong with her” but is it really something being “wrong” with me?
my depression makes me who i am. it gets bad. god does it get bad sometimes. i’ve tried to end my life. more than once. i won’t sit here and lie and say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind again a lot lately. i’m thankful for the friends i have and for my family for being here and trying to keep me here.
why am i considered crazy? why have i accepted that i’m crazy bc im depressed and have harmful thoughts at times? why can’t i just be me? and that be part of me? none of that defines me. i’m still the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. the girl that loves with everything she is, that adores dogs and would save every single one if she could. the girl that has hopes and dreams and wants everyone around her to be happy and okay even if it means she isn’t.
ramble ramble ramble.
Loading comments...