(still... depression is kinda slowly making me wanna kms)

I tried that once when I was a teenager. Obviously, I failed. Kind of a cruel irony being told that you're never going to amount to anything and then, as you're working on your own suicide, you suck so bad at tying knots that you fail at that too.

20+ years later, I'm glad I failed. Depression is a deep dark hole that can feel completely inescapable. It's not inescapable with the right help. You don't have to do it alone. You just have to be willing to ask for help.

My life so far has been a hard one. It's been made much harder by the fact that my stupid little brain is broken and makes it extremely difficult to regulate my own emotions. But there's glimmers of joy in the middle of all the hardness. I have things now that I never could have imagined on that day in my parents garage.

Things like self love and a sense of self worth, a family of my own, people to whom I matter a great deal, and a wealth of experiences that have taught me a great many valuable lessons. Back then I didn't think anyone would care if I stopped existing. Now, I know that's not true. Sometimes I'm still here because I'm enjoying my life. Sometimes because I know there are people who love and need me. Somwtimes it's because even though I don't feel like that's true, I know it is and I'm leaning on my meds until my feelings normalize. For me, that's enough to keep me here until my time is finally up.

Sometimes I think I'd prefer physical abuse instead of the constant emotional stuff that makes you doubt yourself decades later. Like, my therapist tells me it was bad but they're a therapist, isn't that what they'd say? Mommy Dearest told me no one beat me so it's not abuse. Abuse is complicated.