So I was going to post this as a series of tweets but realized it would get hella long and clutter up people's feeds. So you're welcome everybody. And you better believe I'm including this in my NaNoWriMo count. I am a NaNo rebel. I have the badge.
Sometimes the worst thing to ask a depressed person is to talk about their feelings. Its why when people ask me how I’m doing most of the time I answer with “Fine”. Finding the words to express what’s going on my head is difficult, approaching impossible. But I feel like if I don’t try I’m really going to go off the deep end so here goes.
Ok, first off it hasn't been my *whole* life, guys. I didn't start smoking when I was 7 or anything. I actually started relatively late. It wasn't something I was pushed into, because I didn't really have any peers to pressure me. I remember being 19, back when the dinosaurs roamed the land and walking into store and seeing the cigarettes. "I could buy those," I thought. So I did. Out of curiosity mostly, and the delicious feeling of doing something forbidden. Then I smoked one.