I’m a very judgmental person. I think it comes from being judged growing up. Back then, depression was sadness. It was a phase I was going to grow out of. It was a “minor inconvenience”. Alas, it was not so easy. So many horror stories and memories can be tied back to that.
They say that doctors and parents just pump kids full of too much medicine these days, but so much could have been different if I had only been diagnosed earlier. So many embarrassing memories. So much bullying. So much judgment. I think this is where my judgmental views come in to play. Or maybe it’s my christian background. Who knows. I surely don’t.
When I judge you, and be sure that I will, take it with a grain of salt. It has more to do with me than it does with you. I grew up being told that who I am is bad. Being the top of my class wasn’t enough. Being beautiful wasn’t enough. Being me wasn’t enough. I was judged and I carry that torch still.
Moving to California was the best thing that ever happened to me. Well, other than meeting my husband. I was thrown into cultures I didn’t understand. I was tossed into situations with people I didn’t understand. I had to grow. I had to ask questions. I had to become a better, more informed person. I am still growing, but I’ve come a long way. I have met amazing people throughout my life that have helped me to grow.
With that said, I’m still judging not only you, but myself as well. I’m judging the moon, the stars, and even the sun. It’s part of my DNA at this point. The good thing is that I can learn and change. I’ve shown that over the last few years. I may judge you, but I still love you.
Confessions from Depression 