My depression consists of USFU. UselessStupidFatUgly. UselessStupidFatUgly. UselessStupidFatUgly.
My worst fears all amount to me being invisible, a nothing, and therefore unlovable. It becomes so hard to trek on when I'm devastated with myself.
And other times, I get "happy" again, and I accept myself for what I am, even if it's USFU, and I don't care what people think. The devastation is gone and replaced by blind acceptance of those flaws which keep me from being normal. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a normal member of society; maybe I was meant to be quirky and strange and unable to function.
Maybe I know who I am. But "who I am" is the problem.