In 8th grade, I dove into a deep depression, wondering if anyone would miss me if I “left.” I would come home and talk to a couple of my friends, I’d smile, and I’d know that they would miss me. I would never “leave,” and never will, but like a human being, I still get sad, and I still wonder if people would miss me.
This doesn’t happen as often as it used to, thank goodness, but it still does. Sometimes I wonder. Who would care?
I was listening to music the other day, and this song reminded me that I was going to die. It’s inevitable, I am going to die. Who would care? Who in this world needs me?
Besides my mother, no one. Whose life have I blessed with my presence? Who have I enriched by being around?
Depressing, no? But this is real. This is something that I struggle to keep down, way, way down inside of me. I could write about this every week, because I feel like I am nothing.
But you know what? I refuse to feel like that all the time. I’ll let it come back, just so I can show myself that it’s not true.
Although I don’t know the answers to these questions, I don’t have to know. I shouldn’t care. These answers should not be what dictates my actions. Would I change if I knew? Probably not. Why? Because it wouldn’t be good enough.
One person? That’s all I’ve impacted? One?
I’ll just stick with, “Eh, if not someone now, then someone later.”
The knowledge of good and evil. If you believe in the Bible, that’s the bad tree. Knowledge can be a good thing, but it can be bad just the same.
I know this post started out rough, but I assure you, I’m fine. It’s times like this when I feel love the most, the strongest. It’s immanent, waiting for the sadness to dissipate.
It’s a struggle. Life is a struggle. Some people just struggle less than others.
Good night! Good morning! Good everything!