stronger / the best thought i've had all day

The realisation is sudden, scary even. I'm txting my parents to say thank you for an evening out at the cinema (conveniently forgetting that, by twist of fate, I ended up paying for it - how they must love a daughter with a debit card?) and trying to reassure them, above all, that I'm ok.

How 'ok' I am is probably debatable, but I'm less worried about myself than I was last week. Last week I had the luxury of a relationship, a shoulder to cry on. Now that I'm not there anymore, I'm faced with two choices. Wallow like a pig in shit or pull myself the fuck together.

Oddly enough, this stupid situation gives me more, not less, of an incentive to come off it and sort it out. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; getting dumped means that being ok is a matter of pride, of principle.

It's not hard feelings as such. The fury isn't at him but at feeling bad itself, misery itself. I don't want to feel bad - God knows I spend enough time doing that already - so we'll send the fury somewhere better instead.

Txting my parents, trying to find something comforting to say about my bad situation, all I can think of is this: I'm harder than I look, it takes more than this to bring me down.

Which isn't true, really. I get down about misplaced library books, running out of cigarettes, no one being online, someone not smiling at me when I smile at them. Now I have a reason to feel down, an actual bad thing to worry about, for some reason I'm having none of it.

Maybe it's because the little things get to me. Because it's not the little things themselves it's what they spark in me. A misjudged conversation, a funny look, a bad day and it's like a chain of gunpowder with a very tall building instead of a keg at the far end. And that, I think, is something to worry about.

I think I've been suffering from depression for anything as long as five years. During that time several people I care about have died, and I've literally lost count of the times I've wanted to give up on life altogether.

And that's why now, after the initial sting has worn off, I can see the silver lining in this particular cloud. I've had so many big clouds, so many rainclouds, that I can see this for what it really is - an unpleasant situation in an otherwise fantastic life, in which I feel better than I have done in years.

I tell my parents that I'm stronger than I look and it's true. What would I be to give up now?

This is the Yateley girl in me, this is the stubborn in me, the hardass in me. I'm worth more than bitterness and regret, than feeling this way. I am worth more than this.