Oh, the Irony

I've found that the times in my life when I struggled most with my depression also seem to be the points that I look back on with the most nostalgia. When I had friends, love interests, passions that were being pursued, challenges that I was facing, that was when I questioned myself the most. It's when things start to go well at all that I become terrified I'm going to fuck it up, and it's when I dare to dream that I am most likely to notice how my life falls so short of those dreams. It's so much easier when things are dull & empty. When I have nothing, expect nothing, the depression doesn't seem to hit as hard. And yet, when I was sobbing myself to sleep every night & thinking I couldn't face the day... those were generally the times when I was most living my life. The times when I most wanted to die were also the times when I was most alive.