Marshmallow brain
I was just thinking about how you are never ready for a wave of depression. You never know when to expect it. You never know how to handle it. And then I realised that it's been almost 10 years since my first and only attempt at actually doing something about my mental health. I don't know if that attempt was a success. Covid and a few other things complicated matters and I let go of the thought of seeking help. Professional help. I did consider it a few times since, so maybe I haven't given up hope completely, but knowing me, it's quite unlikely. And of course, I don't even have it that bad. My brain behaves for the most part. And when it doesn't, I either get moody and cry in my room or get a bit drunk and behave a bit recklessly. It's mostly okay. The recklessness isn't too bad. It's never something I regret. But you know, I'm in my 30s now. I think it's fair to ask that the universe let me be. That I'm allowed to just exist; go about ...