Others care more

Today while I was working with my grandpa, a woman parked on the street. Her car was mostly in a 2-hour parking zone, but the back bumper was about a half-foot into a disabled parking zone. She was considering leaving the car parked where it was, risking a $600 ticket. My grandpa was pretty concerned about it, stopping all his work to talk (as he often does). He really didn't want her to be hit with that fine. The woman decided to just check in to the building that she needed to, then return shortly to find a parking spot she could fit in. Even as she walked off, my grandpa briefly continued voicing his concern. I told him that he shouldn't dwell on it because the woman had already made her decision. The woman was quick enough to avoid being written up.

Many people have been supporting me in my depression. They can make me smile, laugh, even love. But, as I've said before, being depressed means that I can't feel positive emotions as intensely or for as long. It's better to have those diminished positive feelings than to just be empty and sad, so I appreciate when people help me to feel well. However, they just can't cure my depression by making me happy, and I don't want them to think that they can. To try to fill the space you've left in me is something I don't see as possible or at least feasible. I don't love anyone as much as I love you. Nobody should be trying to make me move on from my depression, because they'll be wasting their time. They're not the cause, and they can't be the solution.

Finally, you don't care to let me know how you're doing at all. I sometimes get so anxious with not knowing how you recovering. I get so concerned with whether the people around you are helping you. I even worry about whether you're eating well or keeping up with your chores, things you don't care about yourself. Just like the other situations, though, the fact is that the decisions have been made and there isn't anything to do. I have to remind myself that it's a waste of time to obsess over your wellbeing, because there isn't a thing I can do to know how you are. You'll catch me up when you decide to.