It was my intention when I started an additional blog concerning depression to keep blogging here as well. As you can see, I haven’t done a very good job of that. I feel like as many people as possible need to see this post, however, so I’m putting it up here as well. Hopefully, I’ll make it back here one day with some lighter content. In the meantime, I hope this helps you in some way.
Even typing the words out in front of me, it still seems unbelievable I ever said them. In the course of discussing my past history and what might have caused my depression, I actually said those words. Why would I wish that? Why would I actually desire that something unfortunate happen to me?
Because it would give what I was going through some significance.
I have friends who have been stalked, molested, divorced, injured, operated on, verbally abused, and cheated on. Some of them were able to move on, some needed some help, and some are still dealing with the fallout. They have a reason to be depressed. What the heck ever happened to me? Granted, I’ve had my bumps here and there, but nothing like that. At least I could focus on a certain circumstance or event. How am…
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