Self-Pity Parties

Grow the fuck up.

So this is going to a be rant of day 10 in my 30 day challenge: Write about something in which you feel strongly.

I have intentionally not written anything yet because I wanted to write about something I haven’t really touched on. I’ve written my abortion related posts and decided, that while I do feel strongly on the issue, I won’t go in to that. I think I’ve basically said all that needs to be said, until I find more content that I feel like addressing. But for now, I’m going to focus on something else.

I somehow happened upon the “depression” tagline on Instagram. It gave me a warning before I proceeded to see picture after picture of depressed teenagers posting self-mutilation, whether it be of the actual deed, or pictures using words.

Pictures like: 1,000 likes and I’ll flush my blades, I’m so fat- look at my thighs, I cut today, etc. etc.

For starters, this 13-year-old girl was crying about being so fat. Her thighs barely touched on top, and my golly, that was still too much. She must be fat if her thigh gap wasn’t entirely (w)hole. Then, to top it off, she cries “I am so fat! I weigh 95lbs, why is it so hard to weigh 85? I’m 5’5, my ideal weight is 85lbs. I’m so fat!!”

What the actual fuck?? You are 95-fucking-pounds, and you are fat?? You’re 5’5, I think you look anorexic, I’m sure. I seriously do not understand why we let society dictate our lives so very much. We are society, so how about you step out of everyone else’s thumb, and love yourself. Unless you’re unhealthy, in that case start eating healthy and do some cardio or squats or something.

Here’s another lie worded picture going around: No one cares. They’re just pretending.

Kids, adults alike! Please. Just stop it. Get your head out of your own ass for five minutes.

Let us remember that even in our depression, there are people who care. We’re the ones pushing them away with shit like that. You post a status on Facebook about how nobody cares, and your best friend reads it, and while commenting how much s/he loves you, is questioning themselves. They love you! They want to be there for you, but you continuously push them away with hurtful post and status updates.

No, maybe they’ve never gone through what you are going through, and no, maybe they don’t always know what to say. Maybe they just pat your back, or look at you. But they fucking care about you. They want to help you, but feel powerless to do so. And you with shit like “nobody cares” pushes them further away.

Stop bitching about how nobody cares and loves you, when there is someone who cares and loves you. It might feel like it some days, but keep it to yourself.

I found this on the internet too: We worry too much, we always focus on the bad and ignore the good in life. We never take a minute and realize that people do care about us. And people love us. We always feel broken, and unwanted. But we’re wrong.

It’s quite, sadly, true.

My baby brother died when I was 15 years old. None of my friends knew what I was going through. Their words didn’t necessarily make it any easier, but it did remind me that they cared I was hurting. There are days it still hurts like hell that he’s not here. I go to my parents and sometimes, a pang of powerful sadness hits me: no 7-year-old boy is running around.

But I couldn’t wallow in it forever. I have my 8 other siblings to love, to get to know better. That are still here.

Losing him was-is- a horrible part of life, but I cannot focus on that for forever. I need to see the good- and that’s my other siblings.

Two years ago, I loved and lost. I was severely depressed. I still have scars from cutting. I felt so broken and alone and unwanted. I was broken, but I eventually mended, healed.

But I was never alone. I still had my best friend, while thousands of miles away, who cared and was always there for me. Even though I know it had to get annoying, she never told me to stop talking about it.

I was not unwanted. I was just unwanted by the man I wanted.

And I know everyone is going through their own thing, and my two personal experiences are not yours. But the brokenness we feel, the loneliness, the depression, it’s all there. It’s real.

We just need to know at some point we need to stand up, lift our eyes from the ground and focus on the good things. Count your blessings. Use a notebook and write down everything good. No matter how little it may seem. Go get a hair cut, or buy a new book.

But please, let us stop getting stuck forever in a pit of depression. I remained in mine for a good six months before I knew something needed to change. I don’t know about you, but I cannot live my life depressed. Nor could I kill myself. Nor could I keep being miserable. So I started looking for the good.


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