412 Sports Talk

Why did I say that? What was I thinking? Have you ever said something to someone that you didn't mean? If you're a human being you've probably asked yourself these questions before. If you suffer from depression you might ask yourself these questions every single day. I know I do. Regrets are something must humans have, but when you suffer from depression, they are quantified and can eat you alive. Especially if you burn a bridge with someone that you once or still care about. That happened to me recently and this probably won't be the last time. I recently wrote about what it's like to date someone with a mental illness. I myself was seeing someone recently that inspired said blog post. I consider myself a very loyal, very guarded person, traits that are inspired by my depression. I've been hurt a lot, so those that have stayed loyal to me, I consider people that I would do anything for until the end of my life. However, when someone breaches that loyalty, m

I suffer from depression. For those that have been following me or know me personally, this isn't breaking news. No, I'm not in a funk and no I'm not lazy or looking for pity. I didn't ask for this, I was born with a chemical imbalance in my brain that causes me to be sad, scared, and angry for no reason. It also causes me to make compulsive decisions, be overly-affectionate, and sometimes angry to the point that I scare people. It fucking sucks.  Despite the fact that I suffer from not one, but two mental illnesses, anxiety being the other, I can sometimes manage to get girlfriends or even get laid. Sometimes I even manage to date really amazing and beautiful women that makes me question life and how it works altogether. When it comes to dating someone with depression, or high-anxiety disorder, or even bipolar disorder, there are some things you need to realize.  The first thing is, they can't help the way they are. I'm not saying that you should give them

Every single day you relive your own nightmare. It's always a different story with the same ending. People you  thought you cared about or cared about me, turn their backs on me. Problems with money or my job. And the thought of impending doom. After a while, you're no longer living. You're on autopilot. You wake up every day. You're still living, medically speaking. You might still interact with people. But you're not you. You haven't been since you can remember if you even can. I know I can't. Colors are dull. Food tastes bland.  Movies no longer hold your interest. You wonder why you're still going.  Then a diamond in the ruff appears. Someone from the opposite sex that knows how you feel, shares your pain, shares your dark world, and looks absolutely fucking amazing. They are your crazy diamond. Do you put yourself out there? Is it worth it? What's the point? They're probably too good to be true. You already know how it's going to end.

My eyes are open. My heart is racing. Here I am yet again, I feel like I’m fucking drowning. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me. Everyone sees my flaws. I feel so naked. My nightmares are there in broad daylight. They mock me. I hear their whispers; I can feel them over my shoulder.The brand new day is finally here, the day that I convinced myself was going to be better than yesterday, just last night. It never ends, it will never end. I know that. There are moments of actual light, I try to cherish those. I try to think of those good times, no matter how sporadic and meaningless they were. Sometimes you even give those up to the darkness, it consumes everything. My brain is made of thunderstorms. It feels like something is digging around in my mind, playing with it, playing with me for its own amusement. I’m cursed…. Or crazy. Or both. My mind wonders off its leash. I feel like my mind knows when I’m talking about it. I’ve often felt separated from my body. I look