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Mostly because I was proud of my depression. I’d read somewhere on the internet that it was a sign of extreme intelligence, and I’d started to consider depression as some type of X-ray vision, with which I could see the world clearly in ways that others could not—that is, not only the skin but also the skeleton.
Which I guess is the thanks you get when you’re doing your job correctly. Your bosses wind up giving you twice as much the work.
Look how beauty and subservience had so much more currency in this world than a bachelor’s degree in biology.
