Being selfish.

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I have decided that it is more important that I look after myself than that I do things that I hope will make people like me.  Last night was my choir’s AGM.  If I had gone, I was pretty certain they were going to ask me to minute the meeting, and that I was going to feel obliged to serve on the committee again – basically because I am usually one of the few people, in whatever group I am in, who volunteers to do stuff.  So I didn’t go to the meeting.  I had a headache and was feeling pretty crap anyway, but would probably have gone, if I hadn’t feared ending up volunteering again.

I don’t think this is wrong – the people in the choir who never volunteer to help out, won’t give a stuff about the effect that stress has on my depression, and my state of mind, so I think I have to be my own best friend and best advocate.

In better news, my lovely friend came round with a scarf she had knitted for me – she was at knitting group yesterday, and ran out of yarn, so I gave her a ball from my stash and she said she’d knit me a scarf – and she finished it before 10pm last night!!  It is lovely – soft, and fluffy and so warm and light round my neck.  And it means so much to have such kind friends, too.

I do need to accept that people do actually like me – and not because they are sorry for me, but because I am a nice person.  I am a nice person.  I am a nice person.  I am a nice person.  Hopefully one day I will really believe that.

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About sdtgcraftygenius

I'm in my late forties, mum of three teenage boys, living near Glasgow. I've been a nurse, studied politics and music at university, and now I am a stay-at-home mother. I've suffered from depression for many years (only recently diagnosed), and take antidepressants daily to keep me on a manageable level.

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