Let me get this motherfucking started by saying that:
Number one: I am experiencing some of the worst writer's block with this fucking book but I will not give up on it even though I think it's garbage but garbage is what we put in trashcans and whoever reads my shit is obviously trash.
Number two: I FUCKING FEEL THINGS AGAIN. LIKE, EMOTIONS. SOMETIMES FOR REAL TOO!
After almost an entire year, my depression has become something that I can push to the side and leave for another time. For the most part, that is.
My life was definitely a wreck back in the colder and earlier months of this year, but now, after counseling and crying and feeling so dead inside that I thought I was just a walking, talking corpse, I finally saw some form of light. I found a new environment and new people that made me considerably happy with myself, and with their help I could stay strong. I hated myself every moment of the day, but I also had to keep living for the people that cared about me, and that just kept echoing in my head each time I thought about anything close to suicide or self harm.
Something finally got through to me, and it was as if you were watching a baby chick break free from an egg. First there's a small hole, where the beak might be. That hole means there's hope for the chick to break free and keep growing, you know? That's what happened to me. I started to understand gradually on my own that I mean something.
That I am worth more than just a short and shitty life and then the end a single second later. I am worth so, so much more and I know it. I know that I am loved, and I know that even if I do end up falling back into an abyss of emotional turmoil and nothingness, there will still be hope for me. Because you see, I've already been to hell and I got out to tell the story, I can get out of it again if I damn well want to.
I know that I am stronger now. I'm not dead, and I'm happy to be alive. I'm happy because I'm able to still see the sunset on a summer day. I'm happy because I can still hear the laugh of a child or the purr of a cat or the sound of my grandmother snoring in the next room! I'm happy that there's more of that, and I'm not ready to let go of it all just yet.
And... if I have to, then...
I'll make sure I go down fighting.
YOU ARE READING
Hey, Vantas? (DaveKat)
FanfictionDave Strider, now falling into a deep Depression, believes he has nothing to live for. Locking himself in his room and crying have become two of his few hobbies, and when he isn't alone, moping in his room, he's talking to Karkat Vantas. Karkat has...
