I suppose I have this thing about guilt. For the last 10 years of my life, I have been a very sad and lonely person. All changed, not after night, but almost. I met Sara, and moved, and changed my life radically. Yes, it is possible.
But now, everything is so fucking different. (excuse my cursing).
I am working now, not just some poor student. But wait, this goes further back. I come from a very poor surrounding. I was raised by a single mom who worked at a kinder garden. Times were ruff. She was sad, but she did anything and everything she could to make me happy. And you know what? She succeeded. I was very happy. A little slap here and there, every once in a while. But basically I was happy, poor but happy.
But I got older, and felt confused. And somehow, it ended with me in the shower with razor blades, two years of therapy and anti depressive drugs, and regular drugs. I was such a mess. And I was poor, lonely, fat, and so unhappy.
I wanted to end it all, and I didn't care about the consequences. I stole, I made people around me feel terrible. And I didn't care. The thing about depressed people is that they don't care, they can't, they are without feelings, since they feel so deeply sad about them selves, they have no choice but to cut off all emotions to the world.
And lately, being happy, after 2 years. I have these.. memories. these thoughts, this terrible guilt. I feel so ashamed. And so... undeserving of happiness. I feel like I don't deserve any of this wonderful blissful peace and happiness.
I take the buss, or the train, I sit at my office, drinking coffee, and I get these flashes, and dark thoughts. They don't take over, they don't make me depressed. I feel pretty immune to all the guilt. I know how to handle that part of me that wants to drown me in incurable sadness again. But the feelings are still there.