Diagstical

There was this post/blog/article somewhere with a list of anxiety symptoms at work, and one of them was spending exorbitant amounts of time getting email messages just right. Maybe it was signs of introversion but shit who cares. It's me to a 'T'. What exactly is exorbitant, excessive? If it takes an hour and a half to respond to the original question, the questions that may arise from that answer, plus the background and reasons behind decisions, 90 minutes could seem like a rush job. Because of course you're re-reading the thing after every edit to make sure your whatsis agree with your thingamajigs, and you didn't pluralize or there/their/they're anything. And before sending it you save and take a pee break because when you come back and read it again it's already started fading in your memory and you have a nice new perspective that comes with a relatively empty bladder. Then there's the time it takes to analyze your response against the recipien...

100+% of my Pinterest I got to a place where I realized other people can have the same soul-crushing depressive stank that periodically drapes my life form - you know, the fluffy lead down that friggin swaddles you. But now I see I'm not the only poor slob. At some point I'd crawled to a big enough clearing, fog at bay, and saw others coping - eating, hiding, drinking, jerking, whatever the self-medication or therapy - when a beautiful magical mystical beast strolled into the clearing and proclaimed, "I, too, have slogged the shit, and behold, it consumes me incompletely. Let us help one another." So here we are. You. Me. World. All connected somehow. http://www.upworthy.com/30-things-people-dont-realize-youre-doing-because-of-your-depression Perhaps I will leave you with an uplifting thought box. 1% of my Pinterest