I just had a conversation with a guy I met in my neighborhood recently. You know, just a small conversation as he passed by my place as I was bringing my dog back from taking a major shit. He asks me how I'm doing. I say, "umm ok" and kind of wiggle my head back and forth in a figure 8 as I rack my brain trying to figure out how I'm really doing. I like to be honest you know? But I couldn't find anything to complain about. Things have finally become on the quiet side for me after years worth of what some might call "Depression." Have I been depressed? I guess so. I know I've been sad. There was a lot of crying going on, on the daily. I mean I just found out that my entire family and every friend I have ever had spent the last 40 years thinking something about me that wasn't true. And there was no way possible for me to be able to go back in time and change that. So yea, I have spent the last few years being "depressed." Again I say, "I guess," because when I think about depression I kind of feel like I don't really know the definition to the word. What is depression? Is it a bad thing? Sure I'll tell you I was depressed, but do I have to also agree with others' immediate thoughts saying that it is a bad thing? The stigma that goes along with admitting you're depressed? That something went wrong in your life and now things are bad and that's all a bad thing and now we shall treat you bad and you will be bad and so on? And did I have a good enough reason to be depressed?
i am on the brink of determination
Bertha G has gone to sleep
Hey it's me, it's Bertha G