don’t tell me… (No.1,2 and 3)

February 26, 2011

Depressed, I do not want anyone to tell me that:

  • life is a gift for which god is to be thanked.
    Life is a curse.
    If god gave it to me, then I want to give it back.. along with a punch in the nose.
  • life is eternal.
    I desperately wanted life to reach an end.
    The worst part of life was that it felt like an eternity. The only comfort was the faith that it would, someday, cease.
  • god loves me.
    No one, I believed, could love me. And I was no fan of love.
    Love was many things:
    a(nother) arena in which to fail… a lie brandished by those who wished that they were happy, a taunt flouted by those who really are, the untrustworthy reach of others towards myself.
    If love is a lie, it is a cruel one. If love is real, only a fool would extend it to me. (If there a god, it seems odd that he would be a fool).
    …To be with church-people — apparently comforted or even joyful in the faith that god loves them — is excruciating. Depending on the moment, it is a reminder that I am unlovable, or a reminder that they have something which I lack…

cockelshells

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