Why do we naturally assume that just because we are depressed a lot, that we are mentally ill? I grew up thinking that mental illness meant that you were talking to yourself out loud, or hallucinating. Extremely paranoid to the point of being afraid of absolutely everything. Yet now society is eager to put this mental illness label on you if your upset for more than a day, or because you get depressed for longer than twenty-four hours. Is it really that easy? To just say we’re crazy and we need therapy and antidepressants? Like we don’t have a reason to be depressed. Or how about a dozen reasons?

Let’s face it. This world is messed up. Since the new millennium, we have seen life get harder, the cost of living keeps getting higher, human beings have gotten scarier, and the police and politicians get more and more corrupt. Because of the internet the veil has been lifted on things we used to know nothing about. The personal lives of celebrities, the personal lives of the whole damn world, because everybody wants to be a star. Everybody wants to feel important in a world that wants to keep you down and out.

 Our religious leaders are suddenly not as infallible as they tried to make us think they are, public figures we trusted to bring us joy with their talents turned out to be common criminals, secret societies are well…no longer a secret. And violence in the streets has become unprecedented in recent years to the point of needing the U.S army to fix things at home for a change instead of trying to be heroes for other countries.

We have no more leaders to admire. And when we do get one somehow, they mysteriously wind up assassinated. And places that were once safe to go to, like the movies, a concert, or a dance club are no longer safe to go to. Not even school or church is safe anymore. All of these places have had mass shootings in recent years, and nobody knows why. Right… Somebody knows why. I strongly believe that. All of these things are happening for a reason.

And suddenly everyone is depressed and ready to tell the world. Suddenly people are addicted to opioids and ready to tell the world. Suddenly nobody wants to be who they are anymore and ready to tell the world. Suddenly it’s good to be bad and bad to be good and the God that we’ve known about since the beginning of time has become the most hated being on this planet. And we have no reason to be depressed? We have no reason to be afraid. We have to perk up and be happy regardless of what we are going through, like some Stepford being with an eternal smile.

I don’t think so. All of us are not mentally ill.

We are just being human…

But I suppose someday even being human will be a problem and when that day comes, we are all screwed.

Happiness comes in fleeting moments that you have to catch when you can and get lost in it. Life is hard but if we can’t get over it, we have to learn how to work around it. Accept everything that’s happening and live our lives the best way we can. The world is too big to comprehend, so we have to just focus on whats going on in our own smaller world and work with whatever resources we have. Whatever few people are in our lives. All of those thousands of people who follow us on social media are not our true friends. Our true friends are our families, and people we grew up with, people we work with, people we have coffee with or lend a shoulder to cry on when we need it. People who actually give a damn about the heart that somebody broke last night, or the job you lost last week. Real problems that people are having need to be dealt with and nobody can handle these things alone. And many problems can’t be solved in a day. We are allowed to react. We are allowed to be sad or angry. We are allowed to be human. And don’t let anyone tell you differently.

Until next time…