the great catch-22.

[katster]

who am i kidding?

there's a cloud of depression hanging over me again. Gotta fix it somehow, and I don't know how right now. Poll me later, maybe there'll be an answer then. maybe. I don't know.

All I know is the great sadness, and that I'd like a connection to go somewhere, but I don't know how to ask for that connection. Yet, I seem to find myself in the awful catch-22 that if I say something and ask for something, that people are going to jump down my throat for not being able to stand on my own two feet, and if I don't say something, and thus don't ask, people don't realize there's anything wrong. Either way, I get the impression that my mental state isn't something to be talked about in the polite company of LJ.

I'm trying. So, I guess, here's a question. Why am I on your friends list? What do you like hearing about? What do you not like hearing about?

In my next post, I'm going to try to do an old meme. My friends list is bigger than it was, so it'll have to be done in bits and spurts, but I think I'm gonna tackle three letters at a time, in alphabetical order. (Yes, zibblsnrt, as much as I love you, you're just going to have to wait until the end.)

And it's something positive to focus on.

Comments

[spitgirl.livejournal.com]

It's pretty easy: you are on my friends list because you are my friend. From that first HTML class that I taught that apparently got you hooked (okay, I have to admit: I DON'T REMEMBER IT) to the hours we spent at the OCF and goofing off together - remember the dorm room Christmas party? - to talk about about faith and religion... even going to your graduation and hanging out with your aunts... you know I'm there! Let me know how I can pray.