Every year on my birthday I make a post about how I’m amazed at my survival of another year. Well my friends, this year is no different. 22 years without any major incidents is definitely a record for me. Each year I get better at being myself, it’s slow going but at least it’s going. There is always more to learn and more to grow. I’m still learning to love myself the way I love others, with deep fondness and softness and understanding and forgiveness. It’s really hard, I’m not gonna lie. Depression is never far away, no matter how well I’ve learned to manage it and work my way around it. The constant desire for non-existence and immediate death and nothingness is ever present, however loud or quiet it is at the moment. But I am here now and I am so thankful for the people that have crossed paths with mine and given me support and love and kindness in every way possible.
