A Foul Mouthed Depression Pep Talk (Rowdy Self-Love to Pump up your Heart)

Ok. LISTEN HERE.

I’ve been there. I GET IT.

Life has you down. Maybe you have huge outrageous problems. Maybe you just feel like crap and you don’t even know why.

It HAPPENS.

But do you ever have that feeling?

That tiny little feeling that maybe you are POWERFUL? That maybe you do have a PURPOSE? That maybe you are actually OK?

That’s the TRUTH trying its hardest to shine through your bullshit. 

That’s the bright light of TRUTH shining through the one little tiny pinhole in your consciousness that you haven’t absolutely covered up with all the stories you make up about what’s wrong with you and who’s to blame and “why you are the way you are.” 

 

IT’S LIKE YOU’RE LOST AT SEA

and the TRUTH is a huge luxury cruiseliner, and it’s RIGHT THERE trying to fish your silly ass out of the waves, but you’re just clinging to a piece of driftwood, repeatedly dunking your own head under the water trying to get a better look at yourself to determine whose fault it is that you’re wet.

 

It’s like you discover that SEWAGE

has backed up in your basement, and the TRUTH is standing RIGHT THERE with a hazmat suit and a bucket, wide-eyed and gap-mouthed in disbelief while you drop to the floor and ROLL AROUND IN THE MUCK because you’re trying to get a better understanding of what’s causing the smell.

 

Does IT MAKE SENSE that this DOESN’T make sense?

Nod your head YES for fuck’s sake.

It’s INSANITY. It hasn’t worked for you yet, and YOU AREN’T going to do it ANYMORE.

OK? 

Wake up and realize that the TRUTH is begging you to shut up for just a minute so you can recognize reality and stop drowning.

The TRUTH is standing back dumbfounded while you flail around smearing crap all over you life.

 

The TRUTH is YOU.

It’s the part of you that’s POWERFUL. It’s the part of you that knows that DEPRESSION is FUCKED UP. It’s the part of you that is so freaking over your own drama. The TRUTH in you is DYING to REVOLT. It’s the part of you that is SHOVING BACK against DEPRESSION and yelling, “YOU CAN’T FUCKING MAKE ME.”

YOU’RE your own saving grace. It’s time to look forward. RIGHT NOW. Past all the crap. All the mental garbage.

 

STAKE your freaking claim on a GOOD LIFE. 

It’s time to GET INDIGNANT. You enjoy begging depression to give you your life back? Meekly asking your therapist for suggestions? Did it work yet? Pretending to be small and powerless is some lame-ass bullshit and you know it.

You are POWERFUL. You have always been making the rules. And now you’re over it, and depression’s day is done. Because you say so. Because you’re running this freaking show.  You’re the brightest goddamn star in the sky. You breathe fire. How dare depression try to fuck with you. You’re smart and so fucking fabulous that you can’t even fucking stand it. You can handle anything in life that comes your way, damnit.  And you’ll break the balls off of anything or anyone that tries to bring you down and make you feel like you’re less than you really are.

Depression’s going to tell you to stay down? Try to convince you that you’re weak? Fill every fucking day with unbearable dread? 

FUCK THAT. 

You’re going to live whatever kind of goddamn life you please. 

Just let depression try to fucking stop you. 

 

 

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