It's ridiculous it's been 4.5 years since I last wrote in this blog.
That's almost half a decade.
Oh.
My.
Head.
It hurts to think about the passage of time.
This blog makes it seem like I was here, yesterday, clacking away on the keyboard to publish my thoughts on some server in the vast web of the internet.
I could have SWORN it was just yesterday.
But it was that long ago.
Damn.
So, besides having my brain rotting in the noisy office environment of my current job, things have been interesting, to say the least.
Things meaning life "stuff".
I'm not depressed for the first time I can remember.
I mean, I had to get REALLY depressed, and then expunge it all in the last few years to come through to the other side.
I spent 20+ years depressed and I'm only 30 years old.
It was a rough couple of decades, not going to lie.
BUT - I did make it through, although a few times, I literally thought the depression and anxiety would kill me. I thought I would get a heart attack or aneurysm, or my liver would just decide to freaking quit on me because it was tired of all the shit.
But, here I am. No longer depressed. Brain intact. Liver functioning at (I hope) 100%.
Depression is pretty messed up, though. Even when it's gone, you almost miss it. It's like it tempts you to come back into it's suffocating embrace.
The further I get along, though, the less strong that temptation is. It was very strong at first. I felt like I had pulled myself out of a hole in the ground. Or like when people bury you up to your chin in sand. I felt like I finally worked myself free.
Then it started with the temptation. It was saying things like, "you were more interesting when you were with me. You were more creative. Look at you now, you aren't nearly as productive."
And, some days I believed it. I felt down again.
But then I'd wake up the next day and think to myself, "What was that all about? What a bunch of hooey. Depression is THE WORST."
Then Depression would be like, "Oh, yeah? That's only because YOU'RE the worst."
To which, I say, "Depression, go f*** yourself."
The depression and pain did lend a sort of desperate need to express emotions which I no longer feel compelled to do. Now, I do it for fun, not because I feel like I will self-implode if I don't.
But, it's interesting not being depressed, after having it be such a huge force in my life. It's like looking at what used to be a ferocious, scary, hunting tiger. But now, it's just sitting in a museum in taxidermy, roaring a silent roar, out of fake, glass eyes.
Inspecting it in this way, it doesn't look so ferocious. It looks a little silly, actually.
OMG, bad taxidermy: Look it up. I find it to be hilarious.
More on bad taxidermy and my internal workings at another time.
Non-depressed-New-and-Improved, ridiculous me.
