About Living Alone

It is true I am a patient of depression.

Sometimes it is hard to acknowledge that. Pride can be a very powerful thing It comes in the way of most things in life – things like being comfortable with who you are or being able to look in to the mirror everyday.

Some days are good and some days are bad. But most days are just stagnant… like a body of water accumulating what the air brings to it. There is just so much to know, and to absorb… and I feel sometimes that our skins are too thin, or too clogged to absorb quickly and soundly.

Recently someone I (sort of) know made a remark about hobbies people take up when they are alone. This person made it sound like spending time alone is a curse, or a disease. Verily, it is in the presence of other people where most people find solace…but what almost everybody forgets is that there are exceptions.

I always wonder why being on your own is perceived so poorly in society. People look at you and feel pity. They want to “help” you. I hate pity. I don’t have it and I can’t stand it. I can’t look people in the eye and tell them I have a medical condition only to have then look back at me with sympathetic eyes and tell me that they are here to make my life better or say I am “so strong” in a tone that is faker than a knockoff purse made in a Chinese sweatshop.

I hate pity. It hurts my pride. I do well in my life. I have acknowledged my condition, and I changed my life and tried to make it better. When people look down on me, I feel angry. I feel very upset. I do not like superiority or inferiority. I like equality. But equality does not exist. Maybe that makes me an idealist, or just another lunatic.

Oh and just for shits and giggles ladies and gentlemen, this “lonely” girl is getting a roommate tomorrow. “Aww you’ll have company…” Yeah, I know.


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