Heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain.

Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up."

Man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor...I am Pagliacci."

Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum.

Curtains.

You know what's awesome about humor? Out of all the positive emotions, it's the only one that is never fully eaten by depression. I think that's kind of amazing about the human mind, that even in the deepest darkest pit, there is always some laughter to be found.

Case in point:

Your humor hides your depression and alienation and grief?

What do you make jokes about? Just moths? But without the empty place in your chest that makes you crave something better, or oblivion, and not even care which it is you're chasing?

This is a fantastic metaphor. We subconsciously are afraid of acknowledging our mental health problems for a variety of reasons. Fear of rejection from friends we reach out, alienation of peers, and ridicule from loved ones are the ones that we espouse the most often. But for those who suffer for a long time, or even chronically suffer, the reason is far more insidious; we've been this way so long, who are we without it? What if, without the depression, we are still worthless? What if we still are unworthy of love and compassion and belief even untainted by these problems?

I think that's why its so hard to directly confront. Its not the worth of oneself to others, but the worth you hold for yourself.

I feel so seen!

Now take it away, I can't handle the attention!

You too anxiety!

More life-coach pep talk stuff in Shitpost. Great.