On Being Sad

I can’t remember what it’s like to wake up happy. To not feel like there’s a 2 ton brick on my chest. Every day I wake up and sigh because I have another day in this existence. I went to my rheumatologist last month and made a comment about being sad. And she said ‘you seem pretty happy to me’.

It irks me when people forget that just because someone is sad doesn’t mean they have to give up. Of course it would be nice to stay in bed on bad days. To binge on sleep and Netflix and Xanax like it’s the gospel. But most people don’t have that option. There are bills to pay. Appearances to keep. Life gets even sadder when you’re exposed. Lose your job, bills pile up, lose your house. Then you’re really sad. 

I would give anything to wake up happy tomorrow.


I Just Wish My Anxiety Would End

Thought Catalog

I’ve been there. I know what it it’s like to not want to leave your house to even go to the gas station because there are people there. Inevitably those people will judge you and make fun of you and call you names because people are evil and the world is evil and you wish, you just wish it would end.

You’ve thought about putting a gun to your head or swallowing a handful of pills because you know that afterwards you’d be able to be alone and just, maybe, think. At least you wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

Maybe you have a drug habit that you only started because you wanted to ease the pain just a bit, just a little bit and then you decided you liked feeling numb because when you’re away from the world nothing seems to matter. Maybe it’s gotten its hooks in you though…

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