I've always been taught that you are given no more than what you can bear. And of course I think it's a selfish act.
First of all, the only reason people become depressed is because they become self-absorbed in their own problems. They only think about themselves. A form of conceit. If they took the time to look in their neighborhoods at mentally challenged people who can't think for themselves or at people who are on their death beds from cancers eatting away at their flesh until it is rotting and smells and yet, they still manage a weak smile or joke about the pain. . .then, they would see that a problem such as weight, bullies, and a gangly appearance all fades with time and effort.
Trust me, I've been in the shoes of both wanting to do it and having a person close to me do it. I can tell you that it's a wake-up call. When I was in high school, I hated myself. I hated the place I lived in. I hated everyone around me. I would fill my journal with pages of rage and hatred of everything around me. I even contemplated ways to off myself. Then, one day, I was re-reading my thoughts and I said, 'Is my life really THAT bad?' So what if I was wearing glasses? So what if I didn't have a country accent? So what if I didn't have the latest clothes? So what if my parents were fussing at me every day about bulls*? Does that really mean that I want to kill myself. How trivial and petty. And then, I realized that if I would have killed myself. . .I wouldn't have met my boyfriend a couple of days later at a Debate Tournament where I kicked the butt of the best Debate Team in my region. I wouldn't have been there when my mom received Mom Of The Year at my church. I wouldn't have been the starring role in our fall musical. I wouldn't have seen my acceptance letter for doing the Jekkyl Island Theatre Production for the summer. I wouldn't have been anything that I am today. My parents would have been miserable and blamed themselves. My sister would have been left alone to grow up. And I wouldn't be a member of an organization that I love.
Yes, life sucks. Yes, sometimes I feel like I'm going to go crazy and kill the next person who asks me to order a highlighter for them. Yes, I hate my car. I hate bills. I hate the people who think they are better than me. I hate working at this sh*y 9 to 5 with no perks.
But if you hang on, it'll all pass and it'll all get better. It just takes some time.
Then, you'll sit back and realize how lucky you are that on that day, you didn't swallow 80 Tylenol pills.
If that doesn't work, then maybe you need to believe in a higher being. . .because that's the only other thing that will help.
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