Australian MD1.

There are 4 things I learned when I was 25:

“You think attention is love, and that’s why you suffer so deeply.”

Deep in my heart I know I am a loner. I have tried to blend in with the world or be more sociable, but the more people I meet the more disappointed I am. So I’ve learned to enjoy myself, my family, and a few good friends.

My sister told me a soul mate is not the person who makes you the happiest but the one who makes you feel the most, who conducts your heart to bang the loudest, who can drag you giggling with forgiveness from the cellar they locked you in. It has always been you.

It’s not selfishness nor is it just about losing hope of getting better. It’s about wanting peace for yourself because you feel so trapped inside of a body that feels so against your existence. People that I’ve spoken with (myself included) have pointed out to me that one of the reasons people with depression spend so much time sleeping (minus the lack of energy and motivation to do anything) is because when we’re asleep we don’t feel at war with ourselves you don’t hear those thoughts about killing yourself, about how you’re a burden on your loved ones, how you don’t have the energy to do anything. Sleeping is like a lapse of time when those with depression aren’t having to spend every drop of what little energy they have pushing back against these impulsive thoughts and feelings.

I’ve got a bad case of the 3:00 am guilts - you know, when you lie in bed awake and replay all those things you didn’t do right? Because, as we all know, nothing solves insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression and self-loathing.

technology related sensory memories from my childhood

The heaviness and rubber texture of the roller ball in a computer mouse, and the little ring of lint

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.“