Depression is Not my life

I don’t want this whole blog to be about my depression. It’s something I have; it’s not who I am. It’s a flaw in my chemistry; not my character. I do tend to write more when I can’t seem to express my feelings any other way, and that’s usually when I’m feeling low. That is not to say that I don’t have happy days, moments, weeks.

In actuality, I love to laugh and smile. I have a sense of humour that doesn’t always translate to the internet very well. I’m sarcastic. I love to be outside (when it’s not freezing) and spend time with my friends (damn Covid). I love to read. I tend to be the responsible one in a group – much to my detriment. I need to be silly more often. I need to shrug off the mantle of Mom sometimes and just be me. I’m a sap and can cry on a dime – happy or sad. I fall in love with movie characters, fictional characters and musicians. I appreciate a handsome man when I see one, and if he smells good? Even better! Lol! That’s often what I wonder about celebrities…what they smell like – and if they are assholes in real life or not.

I’m currently reading and watching City of Bones by Cassandra Clare and Shadowhunters on Netflix. Have I mentioned I have a slight crush on Dom Sherwood? Or should I say Jace Herondale? Because I don’t know if Dom Sherwood is an asshole or not in real life…or if he smells nice… I’m pretty much obsessed with the story – to the point that I would love a rune tattoo.