I'm going to talk about depression today. I know y'all are probably like "god damn talk about something else!" But it's my blog so I'm the boss, N'yah!
For me, my depression is like "Men In Black" expect I don't get to be a bad ass hero like Will Smith. Nope, I'm the robotic human suit with a little tiny alien dude in my head manning the controls. But my little alien isn't an awesome and kind alien prince. No my little alien is an asshole. Playing farmville on facebook, just brushed some lambs and BAM!!!! I am so fucking pissed off I can't stand myself! Stupid farmville, stupid facebook, stupid fucking cute little pixelated sheep! Screw all y'all. I'm out. 2 hours later watching "Firefly" reruns...thinking to myself "man Summer Glau is so graceful. I wish I was like her." now I'm bawling like an idiot and swearing that I'm going to starve myself till I'm thin again. 1 hour later. Trolling icanhascheezburger.com and running across cats that say "nom nom" while eating. I'm laughing so hard that I'm crying and can't catch my breath. The cute little kittens make me sooooo happy y'all! Then that little alien bastard is all "oh teh noes! No happy for jooo!" BAM! Here come the mother fucking water works again.
But but but...what about the medications y'all? Don't they fix it all and make you happy happy all the time? No it doesn't. It's like having an ugly ass couch in your house. You want that manky piece of shit out of your house but instead you just throw a blanket over it. Depression medication is like a blanket thrown over an ugly couch. It's still there you just don't see it right away and people looking in only see the blanket. Fucking blankets and couches and stupid aliens. Fuck all them.