(no subject)

there is a part of me that wants to pour out more depressive whingings

(depression is kicking my ass SO HARD right now)

(and why is it that I can be perfectly fine with thinking other people have intrinsic awesomeness and yet hating myself for not being able to justify my existence with a job or a purpose or anything [and since I don't do anything beyond basic biological functions and faffing about mindlessly on the internet -- certainly nothing productive in either the societal sense, i.e. a job, or in the creative sense, i.e. writing, any intrinsic awesomeness, the existence of which is possibly arguable, that I may have is more than negated by the lack of use)

(idek, my brain makes no sense)

and a part of me that wants to write fic for the attention

(it would be horrible and have no flow and be deathly boring and out of character and stuff but it would also be in something popular like welcome to night vale or avengers or something as a pathetic attempt to prove I exist)

(except that it's not really me)

(and anyway I would manage the only fic of superpopular pairing in superpopular fandom that gets zero attention, and then I would have that to want to whine about)

and a part of me that wants to pretend that everything is fine and dandy here nothing to see move along

(and then feel horrible and neglected either because my "lol I had cheerios for breakfast" level of inanity that would be all I could manage? either would get no attention and therefore be a failure, or get attention and therefore make the real me a failure because people are only paying attention to the fake me)

(and yes, I realize how absurd it is to define any possible outcome as failure, but that is what depression is good at)

(me, I'm just good at deep self-loathing and at looking perfectly normal IRL when my chest is a gigantich chasm of hollow empty painful voidness)

...meh