So . . . . . Got Nothing But Some Random Shit About Me

I'm going to assume you care. If not, fuck off now as this will just bore you.

I'm not having the best of days.

I have a history of depression and, despite my otherwise perfect life, it still jumps me sometimes. Don't get me wrong, I'm not prefect, by a long shot, I'm not rich, but I have no financial difficulties, I don't know what I'm going to do after I finish my degree, although I am smart enough to be expected to do well, I am not beautiful, pretty but averagely so and overall pretty happy with that. Average is okay. I have no major problems. My biggest dilemmas this week are; should I buy a new bag or wait 'til next month, what I should make for dinner and how to get my weight loss back on track.

My boyfriend is perfect, not perfect in a way the entire world might agree with, but perfect for me. He's smart, funny, sexy and pretty fucking understanding of his crazy girlfriend. He may also be the most annoying man on the planet. I feel it's one of his finer qualities. I love him, he loves me, we have a good life, and last time I checked that's pretty much as good as it gets.

So to recap, I'm not saying pity me for my mental health. I was the one who decided that a life time of medication was not for me and that I would just deal with the little black box in the back of my head. I was the one who decided that I was going to take the fucker on with the intention of beating it into the ground and generally kicking it's ass. I win, some times, other times it wins

I have a stubborn streak.

The depression stems from my childhood, a time I didn't have control of. The exact issues are unimportant now. I've dealt with them. But the shadow, the depression, remains.

It's really fucking annoying.

I have to say I don't think that everyone diagnosed with depression should take my route. There are certain traits in my personality that make this the best route for me. For me, my depression is a weakness I need to deal with. I know, and understand, that depression is not a weakness, it's shit that happens, but I need to fight. I really need to fight. It's the only way I know how. The fact that my life is now pretty fucking good make the depression even more annoying and less understandable even though I know where and what it comes from. But there it is. It still exists, and still attempts to control me.

I can feel the fucker circling. It's moving in for another attack. This thing is a separate entity. It swoops on moments of weakness, things that really aren't that important in the grand scheme but that it can use to get at me. Today I smashed a plate while doing the dishes and fucked up a small thing. It sees that as food. It already has a bigger hold than normal as I have sleep issues due to one of my neighbours. Lack of sleep makes me edgy, two months of fucked up sleep makes me near crazy. I know this and have avoided other things, as best I can, that add to that. My head feels ready to explode. So I bought some ciggies. I'll feel guilty about that . . . . . as I smoke. Boyfriend doesn't like smoking, and smoking isn't actually allowed in our house. Oops.

What the fuck, I feel crap and I'll take what I can get as a crutch.

So here I am, having a fucking bad day for no real fucking reason.

That's really fucking annoying.

Thanks for the share.