I had depression in the past. After a life-altering condition, it magically disappeared. My mental state hit rock-bottom for years. I made a decision, not necessarily bad, that dehumanised me in such unfortunate ways. I knew, though. I knew what love could do to me –– fuck me sideways hundred folds. But hey, I was always a relentless hopeless romantic. I blamed it on my name in some ways.
Did I regret it? Somehow most days in the past. But when I realised that the essence of my life, it was all motherfucking worth it!
Am I still sad now or some days? No. (without a blink). I am happy and thankful everyday, literally. I mean, to live another day is a victory in itself. A celebration of life.
I feel myself again. I am almost 100%. Thanks to Korean TV, such a good therapy. I discover I am not alone. There are actually people out there who turn to watching K-Series to relax, to be motivated, to be happy... in my not-so unique case, to feel love. I know, right? It is a different kind of love. I mean, it is self-love. I am giving myself love. I outsource like I have always said. I mean, it is something without any string of expectation. I watch love. I absorb it. I process it. I convert it. I am all good. It is almost my version of meth. LOL! I get giddy-high, seriously.
The thing is that, I believe I am not good at receiving love, because I demand eventually. I mean, I have standards. Easy as they seem, but deadline-tricky. Fulfilment of the requirements is almost impossible. Only my son knows, and he is five years old. Again, he is me after all.
Anyway, the writings of some K-TV are impeccable, almost Shakespearean. I revel in existentialism and surrealism vis-a-vis expressionism. Although I must admit, the men are gorgeous. I want my son to be like them. Height, looks, manners among others!
But then, I feel like I need to do something else too. I might try tying knots.
Living and loving like a rockstar,
sC