I’m singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feelin’
I’m happy again
This bitch got Choked to death
This girl got her head blown off
This chick got Fried
and This boy melted himself
Pulled for low ratings
And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.
This is actually a really good way to explain it, I think.
I WILL NEVER NOT REBLOG THIS
It’s the same way most mental illness is regarded by those closest to you. They can’t understand so they just try to paint over the cracks.
I knew what it was about before I was even halfway through the comic. Spot on.
i write sins not shopping receiptsOh,
As I’m pacing the aisles in a small corner store,
And I can’t help but to hear,
No, I can’t help but to hear an exchanging of words:
“What a beautiful melon! What a beautiful melon!” says a patron to a stocker.
“And yes, but what a shame, what a shame we’re not getting in any more.”
I CHIME IN WITH HAVEN’T YOU PEOPLE EVER HEARD OF
STOCKING THE GODDAMN STORE, NO