Hard to understand how abuse, physical or mental, is more tolerable than sticking with a friend who is depressed, but it is. It's socially acceptable to reject those who pull you down and shunning them from your life is a good thing.
And then we call depression a disease and pretend that we give a shit. It is a double standard. We want to watch and see people who live in filth. We pay people who cheat with married people for their stories and turn them into celebrities. We delve into supposed sex addition and drug addition but never depression.
We hear about depression from those few who have conquered it and even then only briefly do we hear anything, in very little detail, No one wants to know.
It is not an unreasonable position. Hopelessness sucks you dry and its a bit catchy, perhaps because it makes us look at ideas about life and how we live and what's important. It's also just not fun to be in company of someone who is depressed. I understand the choice. I just hate the lie. Cause no one really cares. There is no worthwhile return on investment. We live by "What's in it for me?"
Fact is, on some real level, I just don't really matter to anyone. I know I don't matter to me and I don't know how to learn that. I don't think it can be learned as an adult. I think you need have some piece of this from your childhood. If you never had anyone who liked how you are, how do you learn it. It's not about being loved, that's more abstract and hard to absorb when how we are has been picked apart and laughed at every day.The good things that happen do not balance it out.
People equate how we are to who we are. They are not the same.
It is strange to me that I understand how to like people for who they are as they are. It's why I like a lot of people. I accept people for who they are and like a people as they are and am kind to people but that is so insufficient when you are also so socially inept and unskilled and blundering. People tire of you and cannot believe you cannot learn what comes natural to them. But how can a color-blind person ever tell red from green?
It is complex. I like who I am. I like my values. I hate how I live. I love my abilities and don't mind my inability to perceive socially, but it hurts me that it isolates me from having real connected relationships. I hate that the only way I can manage pain is by shutting down completely, fucking up my life. I hate that I see it coming and watch it, helpless to change it. I love to love and to be kind. I thrive on being kind in any and every way. When I see an opportunity which I can do I enjoy taking it. Isolated I rarely find opportunity. I love children. It's such a pleasure to see who they are and enjoy it. Been a long tine since I had that opportunity. Today, I hate living. I wish I were dead. It is highly implausible that i will ever kill myself, which sucks cause I am stuck living. I often wish I could give my life to someone else. Because I have a son and daughter, it would be mean to kill myself. They have never harmed me and I won't harm them. Besides, there are always moments of reprieve: TV plots of shows or movies, comedy, writing poetry, thinking about something else. On rare occasions my children talk to me. I have ways to survive the pain. It just sucks. I have moments when I believe I can do things and then I mostly don't. Living sucks. It's complex.
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