This was the last self portrait Gogh made of himself before he took his life. He gave it to his mother as a birthday gift.

There's a lot to say here, but it becomes necessary to use a limited language with which to do it.

Throughout his life and as a result of suffering from a depressive disorder, he often considered himself a failure. To someone who has never suffered from depression, using combinations of 26 simple characters makes explaining it a very difficult venture.

The best I can do is have you imagine a mental positive-feedback loop...Sadness, loss of energy, guilt, self loathing. You suddenly feel sad, and lack the energy to do what you need to be happy (exercise, go out with mates, have adventures, etc.). You feel guilty that you, living in a 1st world country and having it so good could feel this sadness for no reason, and hate yourself for it. You understand that you are a terrible person, find it hard to accept praise, and are heavily skeptical of those who offer it.

Any accomplishments are quickly buried beneath more guilt, more sadness, and above all, more self loathing. You victories become defeats as your brain decides that it is best for everyone involved to constantly be a pissy-pessimist.

Fortunately, I have pills. This is something I dearly wish van Gogh had in his life, though to what effect they would have had, I cannot say. I find that my pills' effectiveness waxes and wanes periodically. I suppose the recent emo-posts do not require me to explain their effectiveness as of late.

Still, one thing that sticks out in my mind is van Gogh's last words. After shooting himself in the chest with a revolver, he died 29 hours later. His last words, according to his brother Theo, were "La tristesse durera toujours", or "The sadness will last forever"...

...The sadness will last forever. When I am in a shitty mood, this is especially true. That's to be expected, really. What's bad is that this feeling even carries over to my good-moods, where my happiness is little more than a temporary escape from the norm. Happiness has always felt like running; running from that beast called Sadness to find some sort of high-speed relief wherever it can be found. Distractions, activities, excitements...Just find a way to lose yourself in the moment, because losing yourself is the only way to be rid of the sadness within the self.

...Anyway, Gogh had a mommy, and he killed himself because of his sadness, and she must've been very very sad, and that makes me sad too. :c