So, I got one of those sob stories. My mom had AIDS and died when I was nine, my father was a psychopathic narcissist who tormented me physically and emotionally, and I was a loveless loner with no social skills. I had a breakdown in college as my schizoaffective symptoms started, then wallowed in a depressive pit of self-loathing for years. After going psychotic, I wound up joining a cult, before escaping and became homeless for three years. It honestly wasn't that bad of a life, but my depressive cycles always sucked. I would just feel like trash for a week or so, once or twice a month. But, I worked on myself. I worked hard on my writing, my juggling, and my spirituality, and they're now my passions in life. I noticed this morning that I am depressed, but not like I used to get. I couldn't do anything before; literally a useless log. Now, I just throw myself in my work (and smoke a lot of the reefer), and I can keep on keeping on. Feels good, man. Just goes to show if you put one small step in front of another for a long time, you'll be miles away from where you were in no time. I hope everyone is having a good day and that you have plenty of weed. I just needed to let some of my fellow stoners this great victory of mine. Peace