... I guess you really SHOULD'NT blog about work...

Because someone will read it, and they won't be happy.

And really, reading over my older posts, I've said some pretty cruel things.

I have to clear some things up, because I want this blog to be public, and I don't REALLY want to hurt anyone's feelings.

I've been using this blog as a place to vent when I'm cranky, which is fine... that's what most blogs are, right? But the thing is, I've a pretty fanciful imagination, and writing wild and outrageous stories about real people (even if I don't use their names) probably isn't the best way to cheer myself up.

The thing is (and I'm about to get real here, people) I've some pretty big problems with depression. It comes and it goes... and sometimes it comes pretty hard. I've been struggling with it for the past month or so, trying to overcome this bout without turning to drugs (which won't let me sleep and saps my... ahem... libido). One thing that really seems to help me is writing. When I'm writing, I feel like I can turn less than perfect situations into something funny, something good. And if people get a laugh out of it, even better; my bad days become your hilarious reading material.

But being deliberately cruel to generally good people will only make me feel guilty in the long run.

Over the past week I sank into a fairly deep depression that happened to land me in the hospital. I debated whether I should write about this on here, but I've been reading another blog lately (www.dooce.com) which has given me courage to be open about this.

I didn't hurt myself, but I was at the point of feeling like I could. Not because I wanted to die (I DON'T) but because... I just felt guilty being alive. Like I was a drain on everyone close to me. I really felt that people would be better off without me, whether that meant running off to live alone in the woods (currently on fire... not a great option) or, well, "doing away" with myself.

Thank whatever Gods are looking out for me that I've got Jonathan. He took me to the hospital where some nice people said some nice things and gave me some nice pills. Then he continued being nice to me day in and day out for the last 5 days. And I'm feeling a whole lot better now. I'm going to try to keep getting better without drugs; I really don't like that low libido aspect... I'm a NEWLY WED, God Damnit (or I will be soon...) what kind of sick joke is that?!?

And I'm going to keep writing. I'm going to keep this blog, because it really does help. I'll just cut back on the whole "I hate work" aspect, because I don't. I actually have a really good job, with really nice people, and I'm super fucking lucky. It'll suck to leave here in two weeks.

HOWEVER! I will continue to be deliberately cruel and scathingly sarcastic to those who deserve it (Boberino, Wanna-be-Gangsta-Fool, etc), and if you don't work with me, you're fair game suckas.

So, read on, readers (all 3 of you) and I'll try not to unburden my emotional woes on you again, I promise.