Living with depression; Forgetting we matters too

A type of characters that i’ll always be a sucker for are the ones who have the hero syndrome: the one thinking that everyone must be saved, even if your life is on the line, and that things must always be right.

As i’ve mentioned here, this is exactly the type of person that I am. I would do everything to take care of someone, even at the detriment of my own self.. and living with depression especially, you can say I don’t have a deep love for myself.

I’d say i’m a good person, doing all the good things that I can for people- and especially for strangers through work: I try to guide them into giving them my knowledge. Such as foods to avoid because it’s full of corn..

But the illnesses are the masters at telling you, and making you think that you’re not deserving or that you don’t matter. Though I am better now, on the road of a better self-image, I did fell into the trap.

One thing that always seems so farfetch to me.. is how absolute strangers can remember you, just because that kindness you gave them was memorable enough. Yeah- I do remember specific customers, wanting the best for them and all that.. but with all the bad my illness try to make me believe, it never cross my mind that they can remember me too! I’m just the random person handling them their coffee, or ringing in their pet stuff, right? Like, it’s not too important, I am no nurse or doctor.

But sometimes.. they do. I get thanked for stuff that I deem just being my job- like helping a customer picking something, or carrying that heavy food to their car- like this is what im payed for. Can’t say that’s the case everywhere you go though.. kindness aren’t found everywhere, and some people really be looking like they hate their job & doesn’t care enough.

The thing is, even if I do remember someone, I’d go with waiting to see if they remember me.. because I can see people i’ve spent years with at school- and they don’t even know who I am.. or pretend, anyway.

I get a regular from our café that comes to our store, a lovely lady, and 2months after I quit she’s still saying how she miss me over there. She doesn’t only remember me, but makes a thing to tell me how my presence did had an impact. Something that I constantly doubt..

And it doesn’t only apply to strangers; which might be the reason why I have so much trouble making friends.. even with coworkers or people I used to study with.

It’s a two-sharped knife; My only bestfriend, my soulmate, we’ve been the only constant in each other’s life for more than 20yrs already.. If I lose her, I don’t belong here anymore. She recently made me her soon-to-be-born daughter’s godmother- iknew it was gonna be mine, but i’ve still been terrified of not being a good one. Of Not being able to do this and being there enough for her, with our 3hrs distance between us.

The thought had been ridiculous to her that I would even doubt it. She confirmed I was a good person, and always there for her since we were wee children. She knew and believed in my capacity of loving this baby as I would love her, and take care of it accordingly.

It’s so easy to cave into what the illness says to us, how we’re worth nothing or how we don’t really matter or even that our voice is useless.. but that is all false.

And that’s what I love about the human kind; some of them do wanna reminds us every day. No matter what, every one of us matter to someone. Everyone of us is remembered for a reason or another. The kindness & love you give to pure strangers aren’t a waste ❤️

People do love you. And yes, you belong here & now.