Saturday, August 6, 2011

Sweet & Short

[NOTE: This turned out just a bit longer than I originally planned. Heh.]

You know . . .

I am really, really, really, really, REALLY glad that I didn't kill myself in April. It seemed like a really great idea at the time (and so easy), but some tiny little indomitable part of me -- the only part that was still Ryan at this point -- wouldn't stand for it. He/I yelled "FUCK THIS FOOLISHNESS!" -- which, in retrospect, was the first time I ever punched Depression (even though I didn't teach myself to think of him as someone I could fight until late June) in his stupid face, and I'm so glad.

I just said that, didn't I? Oh well.

My point is that I am slowly -- seriously, s-l-o-w-l-y -- earning my life back, and it feels so amazing. Everything feels amazing. Even when I'm tired (which is a lot of the time, since I work too much) or pissed off (which is more than I would like, since I have to deal with stupid people quite a lot) or whatever, I am supremely grateful for every single second.

The thought that I came so close to never seeing my little sisters again is seriously scary -- but, at the same time, it just gives me even more inspiration to keep getting better. I want to be awesome for myself, obviously, but I also want them to be proud of me, even though I'm kind of a spaz. I'm always going to be kind of a spaz, honestly.

Also, I dunno. I have three best friends. (Actually, I have a handful -- but there are three in particular who I used to see more than anyone else.) My relationship with all three of them was just sort of spiraling out of control and I couldn't fix it and none of them had any idea how to deal with me -- DEPRESSION IS A STUPID FUCKFACE AND KICKING HIM FEELS GOOD -- and I am so goddamn proud of myself for choosing to stick around and try to fix that. (I'm doing a really great job so far, by the way.)

ALSO, I started seeing the future -- which is a good thing, 'cause when you're suicidally depressed you can't even deal with the thought of, you know, later the same day -- and it's slightly different every time, but it's always bright. I could go to culinary school. I could start writing full-time. I could pursue comedy professionally. I could take some photography classes. I could volunteer with some adult literacy program or other.

I could go to culinary school AND start writing full-time AND pursue comedy professionally AND take some photography classes AND volunteer with some adult literacy program or other.

Whatever I do, it's gonna be awesome.

Because I'm awesome!

I'm doing such a good job at this whole "choosing to be happy, choosing to make other people happy, choosing to telekinetically blow up Depression whenever he starts to whisper in my general direction" thing that, honestly, awesome stuff cannot stop happening to me.

Watch me shine, bitches.

P.S. Thanks, Dad. I love you.

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