Regarding the availability of information, I’ve thought a couple of times about privacy being more about what people are allowed to do with information than having access to it. Also, there is so very much of it. It would be quite impressive if someone could find the time to read my tens of thousands of words in my journal, sort through thousands of flickr photos, dig through IRC logs and mailing list posts. Then, after all that, reconcile what? What falsehoods could they develop that they couldn’t have made up or twisted in the first place? Feels like fear to be overcome.

Maybe I’m just a dork and like Firefly quotes; can’t stop the signal.

As for sharing, I am so glad that you do. I love seeing how your mind works. You inspire me, you really do. And I don’t think you have too much stuff out there. You’re open, but no too open, if that makes sense. You keep a lot hidden as well. I think you do it in a healthy way.

Your stepmother felt that your boundaries were her personal challenge to violate. People like that expect that everyone else is the same way…so she had to keep herself hidden. She thought the whole world was just like her…evil and sneaky and manipulative.

I share myself for several reasons.
Although I don’t want to admit it, I want feedback. I want to know that I’m not alone, that someone cares, and someone will think what I say is cool. I also want to create and express. I feel that my ideas are valid and worthy of being put out there. And then there’s the thing about how my sharing will help others. Can you imagine where your life would be if information were not shared on the net? I would never have known my ex was the pig he is. I wouldn’t have known how to recover from abuse. I wouldn’t have learned about myself through 365 (by seeing others and by seeing what they share). I have learned more about humanity in the last five years on the web than I ever did before that, all combined. Without people sharing, I never would have met Gary, I wouldn’t be writing this message to you and connecting to you.

I think sharing is vital. I think it helps to shine light in the dark corners of humanity. Light is good.

I’m really petering out as the month ends… the day before yesterday I forgot to do one, and yesterday I was just to exhausted to do one, even though I remembered…

I guess I have been directing my creative energy to other things,and there is only a finite amount of it…

Although, I feel like creative juice can be unexpectedly charged up and/or restored, sort of like the real life equivalent of acquiring a life-enhancing prize in a video game. :D I should figure out ways to run into those more often.

But even to be able to put a halt in these weird snowballing emotions is so valuable! It *is* possible, it’s just that we are not really trained how to do it. Maybe one day we can write a book for peeps on how to kick depression right in the teeth.

I do not think you can “bootstrap” out of depression, but there are definitely palliative coping techniques that people diagnosed with major depression may never learn about unless they find a great therapist or talk to the right person.

I shudder at the thought of writing a “self help” book… haha, maybe we could just write a zine together, called “Kicking Depression in the Fucking Teeth”.

Tell the Critic it “doesn’t get to have an opinion on that” (as a wise friend said a few minutes ago).

Be sure. You can’t. Man oh man do you know how long I’ve been searching for someone ELSE who can tell when it’s not “her” talking in her head but depression? I’ve reached rock bottom. More than once. But I haven’t really sunk in almost a decade now, even though the road is narrow and winding.

The solution is very, very easy, and if I could explain it properly I’d be rich and famous. All you need to do is not listen. See, I can’t explain it! It’s just that the internal monologue/dialogue sometimes uses my voice but comes from Depression. The trick (my trick) is to recognize the subtle differences in my internal voice and then–to REFUSE to pay attention. I sort of put myself on hold for any major decision/conversation.

I can accept the fact that I’ll always be a depressive person, but I refuse to be depressed, y’know? I just don’t give any weight to what depression tells me. I’m like yah yah I know you’re there–shut up!

It’s not even you being hard on yourself, sometimes–it’s the disease/imbalance/call it what you will.

Are you going to the *cough* book-reading a week earlier, same location?