Some days I appear to be stressed, probably of no reason.
And there are various, some trivial and some huge, reasons why I'm stressed. Which leads to depression. As much as people know me, probably they know this (and make fun of this as well), that I'm a depressed person. I don't conceal the fact. Neither am I proud of it. It's part of me, ....and as much as I like easy answers to everything, there is no one-liner answer or any easy answer to why I seem to be depressed most of the time.
It's just not one reason. I live too much in my past.....and too much in loneliness. Even as much as I realize this, I cannot control it, or certain chemicals in my brain that are supposed to cause depression. I wish I could control those who ask me: " what happened? why are you depressed?" I wish I would never had to interact with them...so that I don't end up being even more irritable and irritated. I wish I could tell them not to mess with me, and make them regret their decision if they did.
Right now, I'm more stresssed than depressed.
Over writing a book review. Over writing an A grade book review. Over the fact that I don't have a clue where to start, and what to put in-between, within 800 words.
Lata Mangeshkar is helping me a lot....in curbing it....the stress. And the depression.
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