Also, I don't know how to continue my writings. I feel like I'm missing a huge chunk of puzzle, in the form of not being able to figure out what happened to one of the characters. And I NEED to know where he is, since he's pivotal to a lot of things. It's very frustrating.
Today's good: I've been meaning to post this for a few days, but lack of mind prevented it. I (partially) read an article on creativity and depression, and it didn't take long for me to come to realize: that's why. That's the reason. It makes sense, especially considering I get depressed after several days of lack of creativity.
Once you accept it is inevitable, that the battle is lost before it even begins, you can start exploring the environment and ask yourself: why must I fight? If it's a part of me, why not accept it? Depression gets a really bad rep - for very good reasons. It kills you, mentally and, in some cases, physically. It worries people, especially if you've had a really bad case of depression in the past. Doesn't help that death fascinates me - the perception of an entity, not so much death in and of itself. I was still a little kid when I discovered my favourite Tarot card is... you'll have guessed it...
Dun dun dunnnnn!!!
Morbid? Yes, kind of. Depressed? Ehh I guess so. Suicidal? Not in the least. Having thoughts that life is not worth living for has nothing to do with wanting to end it. It's rather all to do with the world being a shitty place and expecting (knowing?) that the next one will bring some peace.
Incidentally, these are the exact thoughts that motivate me to write my story. An entire world caught in the crossfire of life struggling to exist, and death giving arguments to let it be sole ruler. It gives damn good arguments: peace, quiet, no more pain or vain struggles. Whereas life only offers suffering and hardship.
I don't know what the point of living is - just as I know there's no point in dying before you've accomplished your purpose, unknown as it may be. The real difficulty is to find companionship within the darkness. You don't want to drag anyone in with you, for chances are they won't be able to withstand the pressure. At the same time, you want people to understand: yes, I'm chronically depressed (let's be crazy and accept it), no, I'm not suicidal nor unhappy, quite the contrary; yes, I enjoy morbid things, no, I'm not the kind of person who would hurt creatures or even myself for kicks (mosquitoes, however...); yes, I have a fascination with death, no, I'm no murderer nor do I enjoy the death of people: I cry. I cry over a lot of things going wrong on this shitty world. If I had the power to change things, I would. I honestly would. In the meantime, we've got a third world war going on in the unseen trenches. Our way of living is already over. I don't know whether to be afraid or glad.
This said... I've got about an hour and a half of unwinding left. I was going to do some drawing, but chances are it'll be gaming now. At least I wrote. Not what I'd like to be writing, but... this was days in the making.
If anything, I need the people closest to me to understand that even though I am a child of shadow, I can still bask in the light and enjoy it there. The darkness, however, should not be feared, as I don't fear it myself. It's an old friend. One who brings cookies and coffee and baskets of ideas. I get tired of pretending I never get depressed: I do. Not in the proportions I once knew, but here's the thing: had I never known those depths, would I survive my own life? When all appears meaningless and you wonder about life, how is it not the knowledge that you have a purpose that keeps you not only going, but also eager to keep discovering what future events are in the making? The world's a shitty place: I'm still eager to see what will happen, if only because I have my own goals to fulfill (because egocentric). I matter - to me and to others. They matter to me, even though I have all the trouble in the world not only showing it, but accepting it (this will be our next demon we will be fighting, tyvm << XD). I feel like, at some point, I stopped wanting to rely on others, and stopped wanting people to be close because I hate being vulnerable because past traumas and shit and there we go. I'm a hardass bitch wrapped in a tight little innocent package. Being this way is not the problem in itself: it's feeling as though I still need to be like this, that is the problem. And it comes from feeling misunderstood for all the reasons aforementioned. Vicious cycle, as it is called. Sucks being human. XD
In conclusion: I'm hungry and Dragon Age awaits. XD
Note to Future Self: think all was said.
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