pygmy

Never forget that you are loved. And you can call me anytime.

Some disconnected and possibly mutually contradictory thoughts:

I have been in a similar place, though it came new to me. (Perhaps it's like the habit of lying; I became good at that, when I was young. The key to it was not the remembering of my lies, so much as the believing of them. It became too much like hard work to remember them, after a while; and I'd never been happy with it.)

I think that toothpickmoe is probably right, if I've understood him. Don't ever believe you can't change yourself. I edited my sense of humour, in my late teens. I am a much nicer person for it.

I can't say what Lemonkid said; I don't know you well enough. But I do tell you that you're valued.

The cure for my depression, thirteen years ago, was be(com)ing a (single) parent. I found I had to be functional, to give my son a chance. He was four, then. I used him as a lever against myself; if he'd gone from me, I wouldn't have lived five years. He gave me a reason to function. (Some of it, for sure, was anger at my in-laws' offer to raise him; they would have tried to mould him in ways they'd failed at with their daughter.) It wasn't much of a life, for sure; but it was imperative. He's a nice kid. (Soon, he will leave home, and I will have to fight my way out of the result. Or not. I'm tired.)


From that I take two very specific lessons.

First, make sure you are getting enough sleep. That makes a big difference. I had ten years of chronic sleep deprivation; after I quit that job, it took me six months to start sleeping sensibly.

Second, you have hope, whether you know it or not; and you have joy. Arrange your life so that you have unexpected joys; that feeds hope. (For me, this involves going for walks, away from towns. Preferably very early in the morning, to see the light come across the land, and watch the day-life begin.)