Sometimes, you just need to listen to yourself.

Especially when you're depressed, or insanely frustrated, and you know that there are people, who, in the "traditional" sense, would be the best people to go to in such a situation. Like a parent. Or a sibling.

Now you know this isn't a good idea, but you want to try it out anyway, and you scold yourself because you're supposed to feel at ease with them, right?
You're supposed to feel all better when you belt it all out to family, cause that's how it's supposed to work! You remind yourself that that's what the "instruction manual" says.

And so you start sayin something, and you only get sucked into the vortex of meaningless banter that ends up with you being blamed and reminded of all things absurd and completely unrelated to you at this point of time. You pray for the patience to be able to put up with all the noise. Your frustration and dismal depression increases exponentially with the duration of the "family-time chat".
You curse the instruction manual, they guy who wrote it, and tear it to pieces in your head.

You swear, and swear to never call again. You also swear to listen to yourself.


So you go home and write a post on your blog that will never let you forget that you are wiser than your head.


Don't you ever let me forget, love.