I want to talk...

I want to talk about depression.

Appropriate.

It's a touchy subject, for obvious reasons. There's a lot of problems to do with depression, it's a massively scary thing to admit to. But why?

Right now, I'm feeling strange. I get this way sometimes... A feeling of uselessness, of despair. A feeling that you're not good for anything. It's not nice.

I'm not saying I am depressed, but rather, I might be. I might be depressed. It's a really strange set of affairs; I actually feel so useless that I don't deserve to say I'm depressed. I'm definitely not suicidal. I don't deserve to say that either. Even if life IS pointless. It's not even really low self-esteem. I don't have an awful lot to have low self-esteem about. I life in a middle life. I'm not well off, but I have little to no money. I couldn't afford to keep myself alive for the 2 weeks that I'm supplied with government money. I'm on Unemployment benefit, and made to feel as guilty as possible about it, by everyone. By my parents, by society, even, to a degree, the government that gives it to you. Sometimes I can't help but wish to be worse off than I am, so that I can justify the feelings I have. It's not fair to say that, I know. But I'm on such a middle level...

I don't even want to make this blog. I feel like I'm complaining when I have no grounds to complain. I'm just being a whiney white boy. But dammit, my brain is telling me that I have these feelings. I don't know how to get around it... So I'm not allowed to vent because other people are worse off than me? It's selfish to think that, but what's more selfish than being depressed? I feel like my life is too hard for me. It's such hard work to be depended upon all the time, to be strong for everyone, it's cliché, I know. But it's true. It's a massive struggle, to have all the people around you expect you to be there for them, and not have them be there for you, emotionally, I mean. It's not like they physically stop existing as soon as you've helped them... Boy, wouldn't that be a treat? I live a middle life. I'm autistic, but not very much. I'm fast, but never the fastest. I'm smart, but no where near the smartest. I can debate pretty well, but what kind of use is that? When in life do you ever need to debate with someone? I play guitar, I love to play lead, but I'm shit at rhythm. I can't compromise, it's all gotta be my way... But I'm second best, how does that work? I live a middle life.

I like cats. They make me happy.

I'm never picked first for something, I'm usually not the funniest person, or the best actor, even though that's my career choice. I'm not the best at anything, no where near. I'm not the best looking, or the best boyfriend, though I try to be. That's what's important, right? Trying hard. It's only important that you try... Important to who? Who am I trying for? What use if trying to be important, if no one gains anything from it?

How I would love to live life.

I don't want anyone to read this. I hate sympathy. It's pointless. It's always followed by a compliment. Like, "you're not ugly, you're handsome!". Words mean nothing. Actions are what counts. What does it matter what you say? I'm never shown that I'm handsome. My mum might say it... Because she's a good judge! Second best is the place I'm assigned. Second best is the place I'm gonna have to accept.

Winning is great, but it just means you're better than people who are worse than you. And that's relative. Totally depends on your category, doesn't it?

I'd like to say I have something meaningful and poignant to finish with... I don't. This is just a feelings blog. I try to keep my personal feelings out of this, but it's my blog. Don't like it? Deal with it, it's mine. Go make your own blog, take whatever you like out of this, and stick it in it. Then you can read it without my personal stuff.
Anyway, I'm gonna go and make some funny stuff. Gotta keep trying, don't you?