Apparently something that can happen when you’re depressed is you go through a season of anger. I remember when mine started. And in that season, I stopped caring about making situations less than awkward for people who I felt were mean/rude/uncomfortable.

:: I should note that up until this point, I championed making situations copasetic, no matter who was involved. I loathed awkward moments in conversation, and never wanted people to be at odds with one another. Now…though…now is a different story. ::

For example, if I feel someone is mean, I won’t attempt to find redeeming qualities in them. I won’t try to understand where they’re coming from, or what circumstances could have brought them to being mean. Instead, I make no attempt to carry on conversation, and instead treat them just as I feel they’re treating others. I’m cold, unforgiving, and in no way, shape, or form could care any less.

And I hate that I’ve come to this point. Honestly. My heart is heavy with my arrogant attitude. I don’t want to stress over making every situation shiny and happy, like I did pre-depression, but I also want to be kind to people. To understand them. To be polite. To treat others as I want to be treated. I’m tired of giving people their just desserts. I want to love beyond myself.

Hello, Long Road Ahead. I’m Rachael. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Now then, shall we?