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If I was sad, would you try to cheer me up?

If I wasn’t around, would I be on your mind?

Would you respect me when left in tempting situations?

Would you allow me to freely speak my mind?

Would you listen, even if you thought what I was saying was stupid?

Would you take care of me if I was sick?

Would you save me if I was stranded?

If I was being cold, would you pull away, or know me better and ask me why I was sad?

Would you let me walk away without a fight?

Would you tell me I’m beautiful, even if I look like death?

Would you think I’m beautiful, even when I look like death?

Would you put me first, not with neglect to yourself, but with a high regard for me?

Would you ask about my life?

Would you try to care about the things I told you?

Would you let me tell you my secrets?

Would you trust me with yours?

Would you want me to meet your family?

Would you want to meet mine?

If I went to hold your hand, would you slip out of my grasp?

If I went to kiss your cheek, would you dodge my affection?

Would you dance with me, even if we’re the only ones dancing?

Would you love me, not loudly, but openly?

Would I just be a secret or could we just be?

Could we be in love?
Can we try to be in love?


I think I thought I had a thought.

I think I’m doing life wrong. 

I know I’m being a bad friend.
I think I’m being too good of a significant other.
I know I’m being a bad family member.
I think I’m being a bad roommate.
I know I’m being a bad cat mom.
I think I’m being a poor coworker.
I know I’m being a lazy student.
I think I know that things are not going well and that I need a change.

Snip Snip

“I think you should get a tattoo of a dotted line with the scissor silhouette and the words ‘Cut Here’ across your wrist!”

It’s witty right?
I thought so too until the day I was sitting on the floor of my parent’s bathroom, repeatedly running a razor blade slowly across my arms.
It wasn’t a death wish…yet.
That is not how depression works. 
At first you are sad and that is bad, but you still feel, so it is not intolerable. 
It is the numbness that kills.
I cut myself because I wanted to feel things and it was not until I pulled that razor across my arm and did not feel a fucking thing that I decided it was time to let go. 
Many things saved my life; friends, family, a fortune in therapy.
However, the mistake people make is thinking that these things “cured” me.
You do not cure depression.
You cannot cure depression.
It is something you live with forever and from now until the day I die I will probably try to jump into the next life at least one more time. 
I am writing this because this week is National Suicide Prevention Week and really the only way you can try to prevent is to understand;
Understand that someone who has this does not just, “get over it”. 
Understand that it is not anyone’s “fault” that a person is this way.
Understand it is a personal demon and you can not fight it for someone.
Understand that sometimes a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on is worth more than trite advice.
Understand that sometimes all you can do is remind people. 
Depression is forgetting. 
It’s forgetting your beautiful, talented, strange and wonderful. 
It’s forgetting you’re irreplaceable. 
So if you have a friend who you know is down, remind them that they are fucking awesome.
If you are down, remind yourself that you are fucking awesome and that people would really miss you if you checked out early.
The Bloggess has a really awesome post about this week and as a blogger she regularly inspires by sharing her own struggles with mental illness. 
This particular link includes really helpful things like hotlines to call and people to talk to when things get cloudy.
Her site also has links to her Zazzle shop where she sells cool things that say, “Depression Lies”, just incase you want a necklace to remind you that the deceptive inner demon bastard who tells you that you suck, is full of shit. 

Things have gotten real serious over here

To lighten the mood this is the debut post of a section I’m going to call, “Fucked up Family Conversations”

With out further delay, 

**My solution to sex crimes in the military.

You’re welcome world.   
** DISCLAIMER: This blogger does not indorse the rape or degradation of women (or men) in any way, shape or form. Hookers work hard and are people to. They deserve nothing but respect and good tips.