Everyone loves your shit

2016: the year of finding other depressed “friends” on the Internet.

Or well that’s how I saw it. It seemed like you could log on and tweet about wanting to hop off a sky scraper and in seconds you’d have 5 people retweeting in agreement. Seemed like every corner you turned, there was someone going through it as well or maybe someone who just loved your shit.

Your shit. Everything that made you want to gouge out your soul and make some kebabs off of it. That thing that made you feel extremely worn out constantly; unmotivated; sick of it all. Yup, that’s your shit.

Asking yourself: “am I sharing too much?” “Do my Facebook friends need to know anxiety is my middle name?”

Second-guessing your depressed post the moment it got attention from friends and strangers on the Internet. Yet, enjoying the feeling of being relatable. Enjoying the thought that maybe everyone’s got some stuff, to figure out, that’s eating their insides to emptiness. Enjoying a community.

It is refreshing being able to connect on such a level. To make life long friends from misery. Misery loves company, some say. These friends were far from downers. They loved my shit but they knew it was shit — a bucketful of stinking sorrow.

Here’s to a 2017 with less shit and friends still as wonderful as ever. To a community who understand but know you are better than all that cloud you and push you to all the awesomeness that’s waiting on the other side.