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Yesterday I went to a celebration of life for a co-worker, Nadja May. I only knew her for just shy of two years, but she made a big impact on my life with her boisterous laugh, positivity, and overall sense of comfort, grace, and well-being. Nadja was one of the very few people who could read me. I'm good at hiding my emotions because of my natural poker face, and Nadja always saw through that. Nadja was the one who rescued me when I was an emotional wreck after the incident with my boss, and she had no idea that she had done so. I never thanked her for that. I also didn't extend the same courtesy to her. About a week and a half before Nadja died I saw her walking through the hallway and past my door. She looked disheveled, something that Nadja never was, she was always polished and gorgeous and perfect, but this time she looked off. She had a smile on her face, but it was vacant. And I thought to myself that I should stop her and check in. And I didn't. I feel terrible for not being as good of a person to her as she was to me.

Nadja's celebration of life was beautiful. It was moving and sad and there were so many people there that it was inspiring. When I got home I was done. I couldn't think, I couldn't get my shit together, I went to bed and stayed there all damn day. It was terrible. Today, however, I am okay. I got out of bed at a reasonable time, cleaned the house, did laundry, did the Target shopping, watered the yard, went to the gym where I over-did it, and just took care of business. I fucking hate people who list their daily accomplishments, but on this day it's worth noting. Today was a good day.

I want to talk about some of my reasons for being depressed, I really, really do, especially because this is the one time where I know what some of the problem is. But I don't want to be judged. And I don't want my friends to be upset with me for thinking that they would judge me, because I don't think that. I just, I don't know. I don't know how these feelings will change the way they look at me. And that sucks. It also sucks because the one person who I absolutely, without a doubt can talk to about this is currently indisposed. But he knows the exact feelings I am having. The. Exact. Feelings.

Ugh, life is stupid sometimes.

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