Most people who meet me think I am depressed if they ever get to know me more than surface level. I understand why they think that. Most people have hopes for simple shit, like love, a new car, their favorite team to win or a new pair of shoes every once in a while. My hopes are few because I realize that this world is bullshit and everything in it is phony. There is no such thing as truth and justice and goodness.
Am I supposed to believe in the magic in life? If I don’t, does that make me a depressed person? Why is everyone expected to walk around just oh so happy to be alive and living in this imperfect world? THis world sucks. You’re alone. If you dare to see things differently and express those sentiments you are ostracized and ridiculed.
As soon as you let your guard down and try to be nice to someone, they take it for a weakness and try to take advantage of you. People return love for pain. You work hard only to make someone else rich. You offer a helping hand only to be smacked away. You raise your children, wanting them to be better than you were but you can’t even control that and parenthood is honestly a crap shoot.
Is this bitch depressed?
Sometimes I do sit and entertain the idea of death. I imagine what it would be like to float away forever and be done with this bullshit ass goal setting and digging deep and trying to heal and trying to stay afloat when you are absolutely NOTHING like the other people you meet and you constantly wonder if you are from another planet or if you were absent the day they taught “how to be” in school because you don’t get it.
It’s one thing not to fit in, you can always see the bright side of that, knowing you are distinct and have to pave your own way, but it is entirely another thing to never be able to have a fucking conversation with anyone without wanting to scream, “You’re dumb as fuck!”
I listen to people rattle off quotes and ideas that they heard from someone else as though they are their own discoveries. I listen to them idolize other people for stupid shit like their BODIES. Come on now, she is worthy to be admired because she has a youthful BODY, something we all have had at some point. That bitch can’t put together a complete thought. For real?
And then there’s ME, Miss High and Mighty with all of these thoughts I swear I’m thinking for the first time in history but at least I’m thinking my own thoughts and not just imitating someone else or what they think I should be.
Is this bitch depressed?
Maybe. But I’m not taking your fucking drugs just so you can guide me to a cubicle and make you richer with my talents. I’m not depressed. I just see what this world is and I’m not pretending it is something it is not. And I’m not elated to be interacting in this shit. But while i’m here, I may as well push shit to the limit and see how far I can go because one day I will expire and hopefully not come back.
There’s one bright spot. My sons. As much as I worry that their Dad is poisoning them against me and they won’t respect women and grow up to be assholes like him, when I think of them, I feel like I did something right. Now I just have to get something else right so I can see them again.
My baby is going to high school after the summer. My younger sugar pop is going to 7th grade. They are both so awesome. I can’t wait to hire them to work for me. I’ve searched high and low for team members, people I think can think for themselves and solve problems and I promise you my best options are my boys, especially my 11 year old Solomon. He is definitely a problem solver. Sai is more of a creative, a little on the sensitive side, cares about others feelings a lot.
Sometimes when I become too enveloped in the fact that I have yet to create a place for myself in this world, I think of my boys and my anxiety and frustration becomes worse because the longer they stay with their Dad the more time he has to turn them into little bitches like he is. That scares me. That is my greatest fear. I’d rather die than watch them become bitches like their Dad.
But I can’t do anything because I can barely care for myself. I’m trying. I’m trying really hard. It may not look like it because I don’t have a 9 to 5., don’t have a car or any money or anything of material value. And yeah, my Baby Daddy keeps threatening to have me thrown in jail because I can’t keep up with my child support. I swear don’t ever date an attorney. When they turn on you, they are complete assholes and if you don’t have their knowledge or support, it’s hard to compete with their antics.
Is this bitch depressed? Sometimes.
But that’s really all about me wanting to control my experience here on earth which is really not possible because I can only control my actions, most of the time.
When do I feel peace? I feel peace when I am alone, completely alone. I feel peace when I talk to my sons and they make me laugh. I feel peace when I take the train and no one speaks to me or acknowledges my presence. I like being invisible.
Is this bitch depressed?
If this is depression, I don’t really mind it. It is what it is and I don’t know anyone I want to be like. I don’t know anyone who has it “better” than I do. I don’t know anyone who makes me want to change who I am to be more like them.
Ol Crazy Te-Erika. Always going through some shit.
But that’s cool. It’ll calm down one day.