Monday, November 5, 2012

My Monster



There is an enormous monster always standing behind me. It finds pleasure in taunting me, causing me pain, watching me suffer.

It makes all food taste bitter. It makes my friends seem like enemies. It points out death everywhere, in everything. It makes all the colours grey. It makes my muscles weak and my mind numb. It creeps into my head at night when I'm in bed and gives me nightmares.

It holds me back by my scruff and makes me struggle to move forward.

And yet it offers comfort. It whispers seductively into my ear, coaxing me to let go and fall back into its big, strong arms, promising to hold me tightly and keep me safe.

But it lies.

It will only pin me down gradually with its horrifying weight, slowly sliding its hands up around my throat and squeezing steadily, reveling in my increasingly terrified gasps and cries of desperation.

Still, it will whisper sweetly to me, assuring me that it will stop torturing me if I just give in and let it take me. That if I stop struggling and let it into myself, it will take me to a place where there is no pain, no suffering, no nightmares, no struggles. A place where there is nothing at all.

A place where I can rest, in peace.


This is what depression feels like.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

True Friend

Get ready to read some cheesy, fucking positive stuff. Following all the negative stuff.

True friendship means love to me. There is no human relationship I cherish more.

Of course, like most cherish-able things, it is very hard to find. It's not easy to distinguish true friends from those who merely seem like true friends.

People are often untruthful, even to themselves. They tell themselves that they're good friends, and they believe it, so they make their friends believe it too.

I'm writing "they," but I mean you, my friend. I mean for you to reflect upon yourself, and your friendship with me. If you feel singled out, you know you're whom I'm talking about. You know it's your guilty conscience making you feel like a victim.

"True friends are not easy to get rid of," a true friend said to me once. She was right. She's still here. And you're gone. Gone from my life, gone from my heart. All it took were a few words. All I had to do was try to incite a reaction from you, and you ran.

True friends do not give up on friendships and quit, over and over again, just because they can't be bothered to stick out a fight. They love you enough to endure the anguish, and the pain of healing, together.
True friends do not feel pity when you open up and show them your scars. They feel sorrow, anger, compassion. They don't belittle your suffering even if they don't understand it. And they try to understand.
True friends stand by you no matter how great your need is. Even when your burden is so heavy it flattens you, they try to shift it so you can breathe.
True friends do judge you; all of you. Not just your mistakes and flaws, but your virtues, too. And when they find they can't accept something about you, they try to change you for the better, instead of discarding you like a rotten piece of fruit.
True friends are kind to those who are important to you even if they do not approve of them.
True friends try to make things better after they've hurt you. They don't just lay low until everything blows over.
True friends give you as much of them as you give them of yourself.

Listen, my friend.

I was angry that you didn't treat me the way I should have been treated. I tried to make you fulfill my expectations, and lashed out in frustration when you didn't. I was disappointed that you didn't care for me as much as I thought you did. I'm sorry.

For whatever reason, you weren't able to be a true friend. And that's okay. I forgive you. I enjoyed the good times we shared, and learned from the bad times we didn't share. Even though it wasn't worth it in the end (and this truly is the end), I don't regret any of it.

I'm glad I made myself vulnerable to you. I'd do it again. Because (pay attention, my friend) that's how true friends are made.

You take down your fences and let people in. You roll onto your back and expose your belly. You remove your facade and show your true colours.

And maybe, one or two people won't walk all over you. They won't rip out your guts. They won't turn their backs on you.

They'll accept you and love you. They'll see what a wonderful person you are along with your character flaws, and they'll love you for all of it. They won't think any less of you for the poor choices you make even as they help you pick up the pieces when you fall. They won't hesitate to take care of you when you need it, nor to ask for care when they do. They'll be as vulnerable to you as you are to them.

They'll be true friends.

And when you have someone like that, you better hold on to them with all your strength. Make sure they hold on to you, too. You'd be a fool to lose them.


You're a fool, my friend.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Oxymoron!

Yeah, I just called you a moron that contains oxygen.

No, I didn't. I was talking about this blog's title.

I've never been a big fan of oxymorons, but I experience a lot of them. Beautifully ugly reptiles; repulsively attractive men; careful indifference from fearful foes; the hateful love of resentful relatives.

And, of course, the explicit implications I make when I want to convey a message without actually saying it.


There will be more explicitness that implicitness here, though. There will also be no delirious late-night ramblings, no personal attacks, and no drama.

Okay, maybe a little. But you'll love it.