Depression is such an effective tranquilizer that it creates a great opportunity for plot twists in your real life. I have a pretty consistent opinion of myself which is “low” and “never ending guilt and shame for reasons I don’t understand.”
Recently received feedback from two different editing clients that started with “Please pass along to your editor that she is phenomenal at her job” and “I was blown away by the evaluation I received.”
You always hear about how depression (and anxiety) lies to you and distorts reality, but there is logically knowing that and then there is like, physical proof of it and you are suddenly Neo in the Matrix jumping out of the fucked up little tube machine.
they’re gonna make a brain chip that connects to a strap on so you can feel it and that’s how they’re gonna get me to put a fucking hard drive in my head
