ramblings of an oversized chew toy.

I haven't written for a while because I honestly don't know what to write about. I could go on about being depressed, but I imagine that'd be dreadfully boring. And besides, I'm not depressed all the time; I don't feel like a complete failure all the time, though perhaps I should. I do have a pretty nice life, all in all. I've got a nice family, a good place to live, an insane but sweet cat who likes to chew on everything, a good roommate, and a great boyfriend who puts up with my fits of self- bashing and doesn't mind my silliness.

Writing about anything other than what goes on in my head will eventually lead to me telling you about the people around me, and I'm not sure how to do that without bothering them or myself. I could write about some old one-night stand or about things with CJ now or our plans for the future and the things I find myself daydreaming of, but I worry about what he'd think. Ah well.

Tomorrow I'm going with GK to the doctor. GK is a girl I met while attending a program at the hospital for depressed/bipolar/etc people. She refuses to try medication, and sometimes that really bothers me. She is, all in all, a nice person, and never before have I been so bothered by someone I actually like. Everything with her is just really complicated—it’s never yes or no; picking a place for lunch can be an hours-long endeavor—and she likes so many things I despise. She likes hanging out at the mall, boy bands, and wants a traditional family; she's unhappy with the way she looks, but she won't do anything about it because she doesn't have a guy to do it for. And so on. All these things make me feel so smug and superior and conceited and judgmental. I don't think I should care about these things; it is her life, after all, and it's not as if she's trying to make me change the way I want to live mine, but she gets this very strong reaction out of me nonetheless. One of the things that I really really strongly believe is that you should be free to do whatever you want as long as you're not hurting anyone else; so if she wants to hang out at the mall and follow boy bands, I should not only be ok with it but I don't think I should feel superior. Feeling superior, in my mind, shows a lack of respect for her choices. And where does it say that having Sartre instead of Steel on your nightstand makes you happier or better?

And yet, I do think the things I pick are better, there's no denying that; otherwise, I wouldn't choose them. And so it's back to the previous paragraph. This makes me a hypocrite beyond what I'm comfortable with (I'm ok with everyone being a hypocrite to some extent, as long as they're aware of it), and so I feel really uncomfortable around her when I let myself think of these things.

But anyway, I'm going to the doctor with her tomorrow to lend moral support. Later, I'm taking my cat to the vet. Luckily, I have no superiority issues with my cat, and to him I'm just an oversized chew toy who brings him food once in a while.