Choosing Happiness – You’re Welcome

firefox_2016-10-03_11-25-06“Happiness is a choice,” she said.

“Thanks, of course,” I lied.

What I actually meant? Fuck you. If you believe that, you don’t know real depression, fuck, you have no idea. Sad? No. It is not sadness, at least not what I have, “severe depression.” It is constantly fighting the thought that you are so god damn worthless you should be executed. The executioner, myself. I don’t even believe in capital punishment, it is a racist and barbaric practice. Yet, when it comes to me?

Apparently, I consider myself worse than murders, rapist and terrorist, because in the depths of depression, I entirely believe I should blow my fucking head off. And I fight. God, do I fight. I try to stay positive, remind myself it is just a passing mood, I don’t have a real reason to feel so awful. All of this helps, because happiness is a choice. Fuck. None of it helps. Nothing helps. I wait for the mood to pass. Then I remember that I’m not great, but not horrible enough to merit remove from this planet.

“Happiness is a choice,” she said.

“Thanks, of course,” I lied.

Having zero self-confidence, constantly needing external validation often leads me to playing a role for people. I know few who dislike me, I constantly play roles for those around me. I’ll make jokes about fashion, musicals and Cher for those who appreciate a gay schtick and I couldn’t care less about any of the three. Religious? I’ll say “bless” and pretend that I pray. Whatever gets me positive reinforcement. Please, validate me.

It is pathetic. I know that. It is exhausting. And yet the fear of rejection conquers all.

I don’t love myself, but maybe you will. Please, at least pretend.

 

Choosing Happiness – You’re Welcome