Comparing is not Caring
It truly doesn’t make sense to play the comparison game
Everyone lives their lives how they want to.
Some people are reckless.
Some people are careful.
It’s difficult to not measure other’s experiences to your own
And there’s no point in doing so.
We’re all doing our best to make sure this life we lead
Is one worth living.
But the thing is,
No one around sees what happens behind closed doors.
No one except perhaps mothers, fathers, best friends, siblings.
Someone who appears to be loving life could be in the depths of despair.
For me,
My depression takes over
At inconvenient times.
So, I latch onto strangers I see passing and I punish myself.
I concoct this lie that these people are judging me.
That these people can somehow tell
That I’m living a low-quality life.
And that those people are much happier than I am.
I’m tired of living a low quality life
Because the only reason I am
Is that I’m thinking in this way.
And whenever I finally get out of it, I end up going there again.
My depression is inconvenient and painful every day.
But why am I letting that define me?
That is not the thing that makes my life low quality.
My life is still worth living.
In August of last year,
I wanted to start living for myself.
Why the fuck
Can’t I do that again?
I’m so tired of waking up with dread in my stomach.
I’m so tired of just getting through each day.
It feels as if I’m injured.
Like something is broken and I’m not quite complete.
I don’t want to keep using that as an excuse
To frown at the world.
That is not me.
I’m always the girl who is positive no matter what.
Who the fuck says I can’t still be like that?
Who the fuck says I can’t enjoy life just because
I catch my depression looming over me.
I can really just shake it off and do it all over again.
It’s worth trying.
