Today I happened to go to Instagram as part of an online giveaway. Idly scrolling through my old account, I was very surprised. A lot of the posts were rubbish, the way I remembered, but there were actually good ones too. I was visibly reminded that I actually have made cool stuff that turned out well. In the funk I've been in, it really came as a mild shock. But a good one. Those photos prove I have accomplished things even if I have little memory of them (taking Klonopin for 12 years will really take a toll on your memory and your ability to remember). In fact, things I had forgotten slowly became memories, albeit vague ones, when I looked at the pictures I had taken of them.
So, I am starting up Instagram again. Every time I do something I am proud of, I will be posting a photo. That way I won't have to dig through a million family photos in order to be reminded of my little victories. My memory will get a little help; more importantly I will be able to tell the darkness that it is a liar. It doesn't matter whether anyone in the world notices because I will notice.
I will not stay in this dark pit. I'm all out of bootstraps to pull myself up with but I've read about a spider's thread that descended into hell. I'm grabbing it with all of my strength. And if Instagram helps, I'll use it.
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