Sometimes it’s like I have two people in my head (at least). There’s the sensible part of me, and then the depressive part of me. This evening the sensible part kind of won out. I was in the car with Mum and a friend on the way home from bingo, and I was looking at myself in the reflection in the window and I thought… “I’m kinda cute.”
Normally I don’t think that. Normally the depressive part of me is in charge and I tend to think of myself as fat and ugly, useless, a pain, a pest, unwanted. I know logically that most of it, if not all it, isn’t true. But the logical side usually gets utterly and completely squashed. Not so today…
Today I realised, like I do every so often, that I’m none of those things. I’m cute. I’m semi-sensible. I’m talented. I’m kind. I’m funny. I’m generous. I’m a good worker. I’m organised. I’m loyal. I’m sensual. I’m all kinds of wonderful, delightful things. I’m a good person. I kinda rock.
And I realised something else too. I’m not the only one that ever thinks those things. I often feel alone, even when I’m with friends or family. The depressive side of me tells that people are just putting up with me, and that no one really cares. That’s not true. I have friends, and family, who love me not just because they have to. They love me because I’m me, and because I deserve to be loved. More than that, they LIKE me, and they spend time with me because they want to, and because they enjoy being with me.
I know this isn’t a particularly shocking or entertaining blog, but I like to share when I have realisations like this, because in a day or two (maybe even hours) I might not feel like this anymore, and I might have trouble remembering that I ever did.