For various reasons, I've become more and more depressed lately. I guess I should issue a disclaimer saying how this isn't clinical depression...yada, yada, yada. (Please forgive my lack of "p.c." but I'm sick of people discounting my emotions because I'm not clinically depressed, and basically giving me a guilt trip for expressing said emotions.)

But wait, this is a happy'll see!

Anyways, the more unhappy I became, the more I started to think about myself and less about others.
Get to the point, what is this all about? you say.
I am happy to report that my spunk is returning to me! Yay! Why? Someone's homenode reminded me of why I was happy to begin with. It wasn't because of those around me. No, I don't think being called worthless, stuck-up, etc. etc. by my parents on almost a daily basis quite made me chipper. It wasn't pride in my accomplishments, as I was raised to believe that feelings of self-worth are sinful (though I don't believe this now, old habits die hard). Even if that wasn't the case, a worthless person seldom thinks that what she does is good enough (I remember crying the first time my then-fiance called me a wonderful person. I felt guilty for misleading him). I was happy because I loved. Yes, that's right. I loved. It didn't matter whom, or why, I just tried to spread the love. No, I'm not a wonderful person. I failed many times. I didn't stick up for the outcasts. I wasn't a caring older sister. I didn't help out my mother. Etc. etc. But the love I managed to give out made life feel live-able.Give everything you can to everyone you know