Merry fucking Christmas

I talk about my depression and suicidal tendencies here, so I guess this is a trigger warning of sorts. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone in the process of my own recovery. Please take care of yourself.

(Oh, and I swear a lot, too.)


Now, where the fuck do I start? I don’t even want to be doing this, I’m only here because my therapist thought it would be a good idea for me to start vomiting writing down my feelings, because apparently, “if you don’t express them, how will you accept them?

Bullshit. Who the fuck wants to spend Christmas alone at home, writing about how shitty they feel?

Yeah, I spent Christmas alone at home. Well, not entirely. I went out with a few of my friends for a couple of hours. And then I went to a family dinner and had to excuse myself before dessert because I’m a sick fucking piece of shit who suddenly just wanted to die.

Too intense? Sorry. I just really like cake.

“The problem with navigating life when you have a mental illness, is that life does not come with trigger warnings.”

Look depression isn’t cute, okay? Every single depressed fuck out there will tell you that. I don’t know why it’s portrayed in this cutesy, romantic way all over media when literally everyone with depression knows how it’s the exact opposite of cute. Like, I don’t even know why its still portrayed that way. Who believes that shit? Most people know what depression is – a sickness that makes you do a lot of shit that you don’t want to do, and feeds on your happiness and energy so you can’t do the things you actually want to do.

I don’t want to have to excuse myself early from gatherings, man. I mean, I made an effort to get out of bed for this. I actually forced myself to take a shower and put on clean clothes and tried to look presentable just so I could maybe, maybe have some fun for a change and yet, here I am, halfway through dinner, suddenly fighting back tears for no apparent reason. What the fuck? It’s Christmas, give me a fucking break!

The problem with navigating life when you have a mental illness, is that life does not come with trigger warnings. You could just be sitting there, minding your own damn business and this one tiny, insignificant thing happens and you end up losing it completely. And the worst thing is, nobody around you understands why you are losing it. Their definition of a catastrophe is not the same as yours.

 “I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness that I cannot baptize myself in.”

Is it morally wrong to be jealous of other people, of normal people for having normal lives? I do not want to be feeling this way, I do not want my self worth to depend on other people’s opinions of me. I don’t want to wonder why I am not good enough when I see my best friend’s Facebook photo with her boyfriend. I don’t want to be this half-human creature that’s scrolling mindlessly through her socials and wishing she didn’t feel like an impostor in every single social setting.

But here I am at 1AM, writing a venom-filled, and ultimately pointless rant, because I’m so frustrated with all the holiday cheer online that I cannot be a part of. As Sabrina Benaim said, “I am sleepwalking on an ocean of happiness that I cannot baptize myself in.”

But hey, at least nobody knows I want to die! I am cool™ on the internet, fellas. Everything sucks, yet rainbows, am I right? Merry fucking Christmas to me.

I doubt anybody will ever read this. But we write blogs in the hopes that someone someday will chance upon our online selves, right? So whoever you are, if you are reading this, I am sending you the love that I can’t give to myself. I hope you make good use of it.

Until next time. Here’s a song for sticking with me for so long.

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