2:51 p.m. on March 24, 2006

I have chosen to write about a defining moment of my life, because I just had one recently. Here's my entry:

I have struggled all my adult years with Depression. It is not a constant thing for me, it has always been cyclical. I have never really been suicidal, I'm too chicken, but I have always been a little too comfortable with death. What I mean by that is when someone I know dies my first reaction has ALWAYS been jealousy. "It's NOT FAIR", I would say to myself, "they get to die and I don't." I have always known that this is a really wrong response to death, but I could never NOT feel that way. I have always made the best of being alive, but I have never really actually wanted to be here. Being alive made me tired. I would wake up each day and it would take everything inside of me to get up and "be a person".

Now. I believe in God and I talk to God and I pray. I am not going to try to convert you to my beliefs, but I have to put that in here because it is who I am and It is part of the story. Ok, so last year I asked God to help me be reconciled with living and not be so friendly with death. I wanted to want to live. I wanted this change. I wanted to want my life. I was tired of hating getting up in the mornings. I was tired of waking up and thinking "shit, I'm still here, and I have to go be a person. AGAIN."

At some point, this happened. I can't tell you exactly when my feelings about life changed, but I can remember that a few months ago I was driving down the road and I had some sort of scare, probably almost got hit or something. Anyway I remember thinking Oh My God, I am so glad that didn't happen because I don't want to die. Then I completely freaked out because I have NEVER had that thought before. Then I walked around all day thinking "I DON'T want to die! Wow! That is so cool!" I wanted to call all my friends and tell them "HEY! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!". I didn't because I thought they might think I was a little off.

I had a very good friend die this past week. And when I found out she was gone, I was SAD. NOT jealous. First time ever. I was sad. And I cried. Because my friend died and not because I wanted to go with her. I am still sad, and I probably will be for a while, but there is an underlying gratefulness to my grief because it is genuine for the first time in my life.

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