To be depressed...
I am incredibly lucky. I have money, parents, a house, food, water, technology, music, I am really privileged, I am not an immigrant, I am not from any persecuted religion, I am white and west european. These facts add up to the fundamental superflousness of depression. I have been mentally messed up since my adolescence, the good grades didn't make me happy, no compliment felt fullfiling, so many times, love was...just there. It didn't add much to my day, it was a passing feeling to be questioned at any other time, it wasn't something that mattered all that much (It was something I couldn't see how much it mattered). But even these words are empty, depression is so known nowadays, a state of being that feels like it's perpetual with how many people are on it. It's unfair. It's frustrating. I would never say this of anyone else's depression but I must emphasise this point of mine: it is superfluous. My brain has everything to survive but it's like it...