Jesus is awesome!
♥ lightning bolts, electric blue, cereal with milk, words, being with all my favourite people even if we have nothing better to do, mayday parade, strong winds, unpolluted blue seas with clear shores, white snow althouogh i havent seen it, i japanese movies, all time low, harajuku with the goths, windy sunsets


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Thursday, March 20 { 7:47 PM }

Prozac Nation:
Some catastrophic situations invite clarity, explode in split moments: You smash your hand through a windowpane and there is blood and shattered glass stained with red all over the place; you fall out of the window and break some bones and scrape some skin. Stitches and casts and bandages and antiseptic solve and salve the wounds. But depression is not a sudden disaster. It is more like a cancer: At first its tumourous mass is not even noticeable to the careful eye, and then one day-wham!-there is a huge, deadly seven-pound lump lodged in your brain or your stomach or your shoulder blade, and this thing that your own body has produced is actually trying to kill you. Depression is alot like that: Slowly, over the years, the data will accumalate in your heart and mind, a computer programme for total negativity will build into your system, making life feel more and more unbearable. But you won't even notice it coming on, thinking it's somehow normal, and then one day you realize that your entire life is just awful, not worth living, a horror and a black blot on the white terrain of humain existence. One morning you wake up afraid you are going to live.
I was not frightened in the least bit at the thought that I might live because I was certain, quite certain, that I was already dead. The actual dying part, the withering of my physical body, was a mere formality. My spirit, my emotional being, whatever you want to call all that inner turmoil that has nothing to do with physical existence, were long gone, dead and gone, and only a mass of the most fucking awful excruciating pain like a pair of boiling hot tongs clamped tight around my spine and pressing on all my nerves was left in its wake.
That's the thing I want to make clear about depression: It's got nothing at all to do with life. In the course of life there is sadness and pain and sorrow, all of which, in their right time and season, are normal- unpleasant, but normal. Depression is an altogether different zone because it involves a complete absense: absense of effect, absence of feeling, absence of response, absence of interest. The pain you feel in the course of a major clinical depression is an attempt on nature's part to fill up the empty space. But for all intents and purposes, the deeply depressed are just the walking, waking dead.
And the scariest part is that if you ask anyone in the throes of depression how he got there, to pin down the turning point, he'll never know. There is a classic moment in The Sun Also Rises when someone asks Mike Campbell how he went bankrupt, and all he can say in response is, " Gradually, and then suddenly." When someone asks how I lost my mind, that is all I can say too.