On a Serious Note, I Tell You Something Personal

I feel that it is important for me to confess something personal to you. To explain to you how I am. A lot of you know that I suffer from depression, and I have since I was about thirteen or fourteen. I was at my worst in year eleven, in 2008. But I'm really good and acting normal and not letting it interfere with my life. Or with anyone else's. I'd hate that. If I interfered with someone else's life just because I felt like crap.

I used to tell myself that I was just a little sad, that it wasn't that bad and I'd get over it. It was only when reading old diaries that I realised exactly how bad I was. I am not suicidal, never have been, but I did have a councillor diagnose me with severe depression when I was in year 12 and refer me to a psychologist - who I never went to.

I believe depression is different for everyone. For me depression is a dark, soft creature. The fact that I can only describe it as a metaphor just screams writer, which in turn kind of screams depression. This creature is always sleeping in my stomach. It never goes away. Some of you are aware that I sometimes have these little "breakdowns". Often I will rant on twitter when they happen. This is when the creature wakes and claws it's way up my throat, into my lungs and out my mouth where it sits on my chest, suffocating me. I don't see my depression as a monster or a beast. It's heavy dark creature, as soft as a kitten. But it's got these long sharp teeth that gently bite into my jugular and slowly bleed me out.

This creature terrifies me.

Today the creature stirred and I could feel it clawing it's way up my throat. I'm just thankful I have so many wonderful friends who came and helped me sedate the creature. So thank you, to you all, and maybe one day you'll help take the creature away from me for good.

A Hint

"Take wrong turns. Talk to strangers. Open unmarked doors. And if you see a group of people in a field, go and find out what they're doing. Do things without always knowing how they'll turn out...
...You're curious and smart and bored, and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures that you miss because you're waiting to think of a plan. To find them look for tiny interesting choices. And remember that you are always making up the future as you go."

-Choices, xkcd

Forgotten Bookmarks

So I wouldn't normally rant about another blog but the blog of note a few days back, Forgotten Bookmarks, is one of the most wonderful websites I've ever seen. He works in a secondhand bookstore and posts all the different bookmarks he finds in the old books, things like letters and postcards and photos. It reminded me of all the little post-it note messages I leave in school texts and library books; things like how the finder will never finish Great Expectations and how Romeo and Juliet is the sookiest attempt at a love story ever.

Forgotten Bookmarks had me just about ready to give up school and my dream of museum curator in favour of a secondhand bookstore. It's funny really, it's the second time I've had such an urge, the first after watching Bernard on Black Books. There's something wonderful about English comedy.

I think I'd be happy in a secondhand bookstore really, it combines the two things I love most, old things and books. And I just love the romantic appeal of finding forgotten things within the pages of a book. Right now you have no idea of who romantically wild my imagination is running.

Oh well, I guess I'm being silly really, but wouldn't a simple bookshop offer such an uncomplicated and trouble-free existence?