The truth is/was very different for me. The burden of a CD-sufferer comes from the pressured, outward masquerade of normalcy not, as one would assume, the internal pessimism. This is because the brain is one Hell of an incredible machine. 'Before,' I definitely knew that this organ, which controls the functioning of an entire human being from the hair-follicles to the toes, was impressive. Yet, it wasn't until my 'After' that I came to understand the baffling and awful intricacies of the mechanism. It is awful both in the most amazing way and in the worst. It is a Yin-Yang battlefield of your worst victim and your best friend.
By whatever act of God or Gorilla, I just so happened to inherit a certain genetic trait that made me a little... different. A negative situation, which would be irritating but easily passed over by the so-called average citizen, would instead burrow itself deeply into the caverns of the "I hate the world" part of my brain. I would grit my teeth and simmer in frustration at whatever trigger had set me off. If there was not trigger, I would still find a way to attach myself to a random thought and take it to a dark or otherwise unnecessarily complicated place. There was no sacred haven in life untainted or impenetrable from my scrutiny, and over time, I somehow purposely yet accidentally buried myself in my own venom. Essentially, life was an unsolvable puzzle that I was determined to figure out, but-- as such a thing is impossible-- I got tangled and tripped up in my own hypotheses. There was no answer, there was no point. All of life was meaningless. You live and you die. That's it.
