People Tell You
- melancholicconvert
- Jan 27
- 2 min read
Updated: Mar 11
When you publicly lament that you no longer see the point of life, people tend to automatically respond with "Tried-and-True" sentiments about why life matters and why you should be grateful. The underwhelming effect this has on depression cannot be understated. Sure, maybe if I just listened more and tried a little harder these "Tried-and-True" sentiments would already be deeply rooted in me and sprouting life within my soul. But, I am tired. I am exhausted. I am empty and cynical. How much of this can be my fault? I am a weak, impressionable human being who is left to her own devices and vices in an empty apartment, alone, day after day. People need people, but I don't like being around people. Now, I didn't say I don't like people, I said I don't like being around them. Or, maybe I like being around them, but I don't like myself being around them. Of course, this is nothing more than a projection about how I feel about being stuck in my own body and being forced to continue with a life I am not happy with. I feel fat, ugly, pathetic, and tortured. I wait in my apartment for some superhero to knock on my door, scoop me up, and sweep me off to some kind of healing chamber. Fix me. "Go to confession", "give it to Christ", "pray more". Sure. Maybe I should, but something within me is so adverse to the idea of prayer and talking to God... I'm tired of disappointment. It's also the OCD. Prayer is TORTURE to me. I never feel like I'm doing it right, saying the right thing, etc. I don't know. I am empty, running on fumes, and I cannot do the things I ought to that will "cure" me. I need to be saved. And won't Jesus do that if He wants to? All I can offer is a weak plea. All I can offer is a teary-eyed glance to Heaven, hoping that it's good enough for God, even if it's not good enough for me.
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