Whoa there buddy… I’m content staying at home, like to sleep more than the average human (I sleep as much as the average koala honestly), and yeah I’m not the happiest person… but I don’t have a problem with it. It seems like everyone else does though. And it never seems to come from a place of true concern, but a place of malice and even jealousy.
“Why do you sleep so much?” asks the single mother who is constantly tired.
“Depression isn’t a hobby” says the person who always complains about being bored.
“If you want to die so bad why don’t you just end it?” asks the person upset that my unhappiness doesn’t bother me.
Because clearly if I’m not striving for their idea of happiness I must be doing something wrong. I’m sick in someway, it can’t be good for me… Well I’m here to tell you, it’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to waste your day off napping. It’s okay not to be okay.