First off: yay no more cancer
I'm pretty sure anyone who has ever had cancer before just prays to God that they hear these words, and I hope they all do. And I realize that most people actually have to fight for their life, and sometimes they don't beat it. It's a miserable, piece of shit disease and not enough negativity can be attached to what it does to people, their lives, and everything.
But guess what? I don't care. I wasn't worried. I didn't even want to let myself get mad about it when I got the news last week, because my depression kept telling me I didn't have a right to be upset. It was basically the least threatening form of cancer you could get, and it had the nerve to inconvenience me. People have twisted their ankle and had more ramifications than this sissy cancer did.
::this post is about to get super depressing. Feel free to stop reading::
And I've got friends who are great, who have told me I have every right to feel angry; who are happy that I no longer have any more cancer. My depression keeps telling me that these people are just tolerating me and they're happy I don't have cancer because then I don't have to weigh on their lives like I have been. My depression is a little bastard that actually admits that I'm a really strong person, who is very talented and can do anything: BUT (here's the catch) I shouldn't be upset about anything. Ever. Especially when there's others out there who have it so much worse. My depression makes me feel guilty for having depression and convinces me that I shouldn't feel badly about anything because I'm just a selfish, narcissistic, lucky princess who has convinced herself that she has depression so she can be an attention whore.
I'm not sure if anyone else has depression that tries to convince it's owner that it doesn't exist. I'm not sure I understand it completely. All I know is that I live in a constant state of guilt, thinking all my actions, every single one, is hurting someone. My depression tries to get me to shut myself out from everyone so I don't hurt them; then when I'm by myself it berates me and tells me that I'm a shit friend because I made all this up and what I should be doing is just be normal. And don't even get me started about my depression's opinion about my self injury. My depression tends to use a lot of profanity and it sometimes surprises me with the unique insults it comes up with.
I've gotten into the good habit of not listening to my depression. It's a very good habit because depression lies, but it's coming back with a vengeance this week.
See you on the other side.