So Sad Today
As an addict 2.0, I am always looking to change the way I feel, sometimes by gorging on tragic news stories.
My knee-jerk reaction to the "self-care" movement is to punch it in the face, but maybe that's just because I haven't given it a fair try. I decided to research a variety of self-care tips online, and see if any of them could change my life.
I don't practice meditation to become more enlightened. I do it to massage certain qualities within myself that make it difficult for me to live on Earth.
I dislike my inner child so much, in fact, that I can't even deal with the words "inner child."
I thought I was only moderately depressed. Then I took four different online depression tests, and they all said I have "severe depression".
So Sad Today went to this year's festival to talk to musicians whose work is "sad," "dark," "nostalgic," or "melancholic" about what happiness is, what it means to them, and how to get it.
It was not for moral reasons that I finally quit engaging in casual sex, sexting, and the cultivation of crushes and romantic obsessions. But, for me, the pain of disappointment and chemical withdrawal eventually became so fierce that I had to quit the...
I take solace in the realization that the river of haterade is going to flow no matter what.
Lately, I feel that the way I've lived for years—in hyperconscious, hypervigilant awareness of everything I put in my mouth—no longer serves to quell my depression and anxiety. It actually exacerbates it.
It seems like I've divided my feelings into categories, the way that one might do with fragrance types: floral, citrus, earthy, smoky, gourmand, spicy.
I've been in the crystal game for less than a year and already my thoughts and well-being have become controlled by quartzes, amethysts, tourmalines, and calcites.
After publishing a book that wasn't a complete failure, I've been having some very disturbing thoughts. What if I don't totally suck? What if I'm not the worst person on the planet? What if I do, God forbid, deserve happiness?