It's Not Over
"Sam's Town (Abbey Road version) by The Killers
"Cherry Wine" by Hozier
Her fight and fury is fiery
Oh but she loves
Like sleep the the freezing
Sweet and right and merciful
I'm all but washed
In the tide of her breathing
August 16, 2014 Saturday 1:53 AM
I am looking forward to my meeting on Monday with Pat (my therapist). Not because I have good news, but because I have a lot to talk about.
1. Went to Laney's house
2. She confessed that her twenty one year old brother who still lives in their basement (I'm pretty sure he has no friends), has suffered depression, and may or may not be attending college thinks I'm a freak. Now that I write that, I'm less offended. Still, he's a fucking asshole and he ruined my day. I can't even blame it on my bright purple hair because I just got that two days ago.
3. I did that ice bucket challenge thing. I don't feel like that was very significant.
4. Realized I'm actually depressed.
I realized this after ten minutes of attempting to sleep. Usually after this amount of time, my eyes pop open. I cry a little bit. Well, more like a dry-heaving of emotions because most of the time, there are no tears.
It's not my self-esteem. That is intact. Compliments can't drag me back from the abyss. ("Stare into the abyss and the abyss stares-" SHUT THE FUCK UP, OKAY?).
1. I have not had an urge to cut
2. I think I look nice.
3. My dad played songs by The Beatles on his viola today. Something I don't mention often is that my dad (although he is a scientist) has a passion for music. He can easily play piano and a few other instruments, but he most often practices viola. He loves it and it makes me swell with happiness knowing he is so dedicated to his hobbies. It gives me hope for my own future. Also, The Beatles reminds me of when I was really little. The Beatles, according to my dad, is the greatest band of all time and he played them all the time. My favorite has always been Eleanor Rigby. It's so creepy and beautiful.
Back to the depression. I realize that for over two months, I've been feeling the following:
Sad, hopeless, overwhelmed, blah fucking blah.
I guess... I guess I thought that when I stopped being depressed, I would stay that way for over a year. The truth is, as much as I shouldn't, I hate my life. I hate how unorganized my family is. I hate how isolated we are from the people we love.
I hate how I can't keep in touch with them, for fault of my own.
I hate worrying about money (which I spend a lot of time doing). I hate worrying about my future. I hate that my town is poverty struck and that our education is pretty bad. Last year, my parents considered homeschooling me. Then, we figured out that wouldn't work. They both have jobs. No one would be here and I wouldn't socialize.
I used to think about applying to a private school near my house, but I have given up on that idea because I doubt I'm smart enough to get a scholarship.
I hate that my mom has anger and anxiety issues that I inherited (lucky me).
I hate that my future seems empty in my eyes. A college education I won't be able to afford and laziness is my downfall.
I think that when I try to sleep, I convince myself that none of this is true. I do this because it is ungrateful of me to think this way. It's not fair to hate what was given to me. I can't help it, though.
I resent it all. I resent my fucking life and the people in it. Everything feels wrong again. People are not beautiful. They are beings that should not be trusted. All they want from you is your money and your pain.
The sun shines too brightly and only the moon brings me comfort. You know what I hate most, though? I hate that I am so focused on myself. I hate that I feel powerless to stop my self-centered blabbering. I hate that I know that I could actually STOP being so selfish but I choose not to.
So what is it? Am I powerless or not? Make up your damn mind!
(Please stop. You're making me cold.)
Oh, stop. I'm done being nice to you. All you do is sit there and think. Do something. FUCKING DO SOMETHING. WHY CAN'T YOU GET UP AND CHASE YOUR DREAMS? WHY CAN'T YOU MOVE?
(Please stop, I don't want to cry.)
Shut up, shut up, I hate you.
Yes, I do. And it's not your looks. It's your laziness. Your unwillingness to do something for yourself or others. Do these words sound familiar? Didn't mom say this to you?
Now is when I decide not to sleep. Instead, I will draw. I will write. Anything, anything but waste my time unconscious. Sleep is useless, now. It doesn't make me any less tired.
IT DOESN'T MAKE ME ANY LESS TIRED.
I'm never going to escape, am I? And don't tell me, "It'll get better," and "Hold on sweetie, you have so much to be thankful for." Don't say I'll be okay, eventually. And don't tell me I just need positive coping skills.
Why didn't the hospital help me? Why am I sick again? Why did God do this to me? Oh, that's right. There is no god, not to me.
WHY DO I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE HATES ME? IT GROWS. I AM PARANOID. EVERYONE MUST HATE ME. I THINK THEY'RE ALL AVOIDING ME. I think they're all avoiding me.
When I wake up, I'll look back on this entry and think to myself, "I'm not this crazy. Why do I sound so crazy? I really need to stop being so abstract."
No. This is how I actually feel, future self. Please, don't forget. This is not artsy ramblings with a thousand metaphors about voices in my head. I am paranoid, tonight. It doesn't rage within me, but it is there. Creeping. Whispering (I guess I lied about that whole "no voices in my head metaphors" thing. Didn't I say I was bad at keeping promises?).
Depression will never leave me. It won't let go. I am so afraid, because I kind of want to die but I don't WANT TO WANT to die. I want to feel happy ALIVE.
I think maybe I should talk to someone, but my paranoia is getting the better of me. I feel like they hate me. My friends, I mean. Everyone, actually. I feel like I'm annoying them with my existence. I wish I could apologize for that without being pathetic.
ughhh, I'm pathetic and sick and I don't know what to do. I ache and my tummy will hurt again, soon, and my head will kill me. I mean physically and mentally.
I know I will come back from this, but it doesn't seem that way. I guess I'll go, now. I'm not planning on going back to sleep but at 8 AM or some shit, I might. I hope not.
I don't know what's wrong with me and it kills me. Is it bipolar disorder? Is it just a combination of GAD and depression??? What is it? WHAT IS IT?!!?
Okay. I'm done. Night. I hope no one out there feels like this. This is confusion and sadness and other nameless feelings rolled together. Will I get through it? Probably. But it will still be there. In my memories. Torturing me. Never leaving. So, there. Fuck looking on the bright side.