it's 3:56 pm, on January 02, 2014 - boring.

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maybe my "write more often" goal should include once a day here; at the very least, it might help me not talk about myself other places.

so. last night I was pondering a friend's descent into intense depression - she's been crying all the time, having panic attacks, unable to function. and -- so really, that was the catalyst for thinking about it, okay? I'm not talking about her anymore. jeez.

so, but. people call me depressed a lot - but I dunno, I don't think it's true. I never cry all the time. sometimes I can't get out of bed, but it comes with intense blunt affect, rather than unhappiness. I'm not unhappy, I just have a realistic perspective on the futility of life.

it doesn't mean I have sorrow, just that joy seems too predictable, not to mention somewhat delusional. I don't think there's a pill for that, since it's what psychologists call a maladaptive way of thinking and seeing, rather than a maladaptive behaviour or unusual/distressing emotions.

my emotions aren't distressing. the world is just dull.

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bruise - June 29, 2015

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