The Complexity of Confusion

I didn't get out of bed today. 

All I had was my thoughts to accompany me. My thoughts have never been good company for me. My thoughts are sicker than I am. 

I spent the day staring at the ceiling, spacing out the TV and trying to organize my thoughts better...so I know what I'm thinking. My brain is upside down right now and I'm suffering in silence. The second people know...they try to help you...but the thing is...there isn't a person on this earth who can help you, because they don't understand. They will never understand. 

I think I need to break up with my boyfriend. I don't want to. But I think I need to. Our relationship is just one big lie with an inevitable expiration date. As badly as I didn't want to believe this...it's true. The weird thing is, I convinced myself that the longer I stayed with him, the more he would want to be with me permanently. The more of a future we would have together. I named out children. I dreamed of waking up next to him every morning. Falling asleep in his arms every night. Living together. Being married to him. Taking his last name. 

None of that is going to happen. It never was. 

Today I texted him telling him how confused I was about everything and he replied back "follow your heart"... THAT was a bunch of bullshit. I've been listening to my heart over my head for over a year now. He's the one that's ignoring how he truly feels. He's the one that is rejecting any type of future with me because of what everyone else expects of him. He's not listening to his heart, or his gut or even his dick...he's listening to his parents. His family who says, despite never meeting me, that I am not, nor will I ever be good enough for him because I'm black, I'm American, and I'm not Muslim. 

The worst part is that even though he says he loves me, he doesn't even want to fight for me or our relationship. He just seems very cowardly and lazy about the entire thing. He won't break up with me. He wants me to decide the fate of this relationship. But then again, he won't fight to keep me...this isn't the hot, passionate love that I once thought it was. 

In the end, I'm the one left hurting, left curled up on the floor crying...pumped full of drugs to stop me from going on a rage filled terror. I'm just stuck. Staring at the ceiling, tuning out the TV, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do. 

I keep asking myself...am I really in love? Or do I just deeply care about this person and say I'm in love because I am scared shitless of being alone. It's true. I break up with him and I have nobody. No friends, family that won't even try to understand my mental issues...I got nobody. And if I am the one to call it quits...it will be my fault I'm alone. I will turn into that girl that reaches out to random guys just for some kind of attention and affection...because my life lacks either and I'm lonely and desperate. 

What the fuck am I going to do?! I can't lay in this bed, hopeless and helpless, for the rest of my life. 

Decisions must be made. 

That Itch You Cannot Scratch

I just got sick of resisting. 

I used to cut myself. The last time I did it I was 17. I'm 22 now. 

I made it over 5 years without cutting. When things got bad and I couldn't emotionally handle things, I would want to cut. I would dream about running the blade over my skin. Feeling the sharp pain. The warm blood coming out from the cut. I missed it. 

It's like smoking. I've quit several times. But you just get a taste for it. In your mouth. No matter how much gum you chew, or patches you have, or e-cigs you smoke, you will still miss that taste. The feeling of pulling the smoke into your mouth is the best. 

Tonight, I had a fight with my boyfriend. We had a really good day together, but then everything went badly after he went home and we began texting back and forth. I found out some information he was hiding from me, and it made me reconsider everything else he had ever told me. Was he ever in love with me? How could I not have seen the signs of his underhanded-ness? They were clear as day, but I was too blinded by 'love' or whatever you call it...to use my reasonable observation skills. 

I started to panic. I started to cry. I could feel my breath becoming heavy and quick. I could feel myself shaking like a leaf. I was going into a full blown anxiety attack and nothing was going to change it. I left the house. Took a long walk. But my problems still weighed heavily on my back. I kind of randomly asked myself: why don't you just hurt yourself ? 

So I did. 

I didn't cut, I burned myself. With a lighter. I tried to cut. But all this time

Must've turned my into a pussy...I just couldn't dig deep enough to cut. 

Instead I wake up with a squid shapped blister on my wrist. 

I won't deny that it felt good... The pain. 

The Real World

There's a point in life where you stop dreaming and start to adjust to a real world acceptable boring life...one you never thought you would have. 

I wanted to be an actress when I was younger, the idea of making a career out of being someone other than yourself was appealing to me, someone who never liked themselves all that much in the first place. 

I lived life believing that one day, I would be someone important. Living in a dream world, doing things that made me happy. 

Instead I barely made it through High School due to this crippling depression. Can't make it out of college (again in part to the sadzies) and now I'm working this shit job (which I've been at for 2 years and have yet to get a promotion despite numerous promises from my boss), drowning in credit card debt and medical bills, can't pass the damn driving test despite 6+ attempts, no friends, a boyfriend who doesn't even want to be with me and I find myself online looking for another job to pay off this ridiculous hospital bill that my crap insurance won't cover because apparently I didn't get Pre-approved for it? (I wan fucking dying, when the fuck should I have asked for approval?) 

I'm still living with my parents, who are fucking sick of me and remind me at every turn that they want me gone. 

Experiencing the worst of the worst in mental health care because I can't find a new doctor to take me on. 

My credit is fucked for some reason. 

I have all these problems. I'm sick of dealing with. I wish I could just die in my sleep, because I lack the bravery and decisiveness to actually kill myself. 

My reasons for living are very limited. 

I don't know what to do. The burn of existing with all these resonsibilites and pressures that a healthy person would have trouble with, completely swallows me whole. I don't know what to do. 

Falling and Failing

Yeah it's been a while.
Sorry I've been too busy trying not to drown in my depression.

Wanna know something weird. I often compare my depression to a 'black wave of sadness', and my struggles as 'drowning'...in real life, I can't swim. Nope. I cannot swim. My mother took my to the YMCA as a youngster to learn, but I just got so anxious at the very sight of water that I never actually retained any of the lessons.

Kind of like with me and driving.

I just kind of fail. I get anxious and I fail to do anything right.

Life is (still) a bit sucky right now.

Broke. Still lonely. Not single though, still have the boyfriend. He's not handling my depression very well. It makes him sad then he gets mad at me. Sorry for having emotions.

Next month will be our 1 year anniversary. Ask him. He didn't think we would last 365 days. He thought we would break up over our prominent cultural and religious differences MONTHS AGO. But we didn't. Sometimes he will just look at me and say 'I'm in love with you." and everything gets a little brighter in my pit of sadness and despair.

Oh yeah, and I'm quitting smoking...so I'm an anxious pile of knots and I just want to slap everyone. It's for the best though.

The Good Girl

I always try to be a good person, above anything.

Being a good person, a good woman, a good girlfriend, a good student, a good worker and a good daughter isn't as easy as it should be.

What must it be like to be bad?

Does it mean you just don't care anymore so you just do what you feel like doing?

Well, I just don't care anymore. I don't know what I feel like doing. I'm not going to go on a nationwide killing spree and knock over a few 7-11's on my way. I'm not going to cheat on my boyfriend (even though he's being a real asshole and I'm thinking about why I'm with him anyway).

I keep trying to think of the worst things I've ever done. They aren't all that bad. The ones I feel like I can admit freely without judgement.

So I've smoked a little weed. It doesn't keep me as relaxed as I would like to be. When I smoke alone I end up freaking out and getting really anxious. So I don't smoke that often.

I used to steal a lot when I was younger. I liked to have things. Didn't have any money to buy them. I took them. Yeah, I shouldn't have, but to be honest I never felt all that guilty about it.

I think the worse thing I ever did was when I was dating this guy when I was 19. It was my first real relationship. I thought I was in love. He was lazy, homeless and didn't have a job. He also couldn't preform sexually. I don't know why, he just couldn't. After 4 months I had it. So I broke up with him for 3 weeks. In that 3 week break I slept with my ex-boyfriend. I feel like I cheated even though we were officially broken up. Ex-boyfriend ended up breaking my heart anyway and I ran back to the lazy boyfriend because I didn't want to be alone. That's the worst thing I've ever done. The whole time we were broken up, he was still calling me, saying he loved me and would be there for me when I was ready. He was under this illusion that I was just being overly emotional and unstable. But the whole time I was screwing someone else. I don't know why I did that.

Now that I'm in another relationship, my past sins haunt me.

Me and the current boyfriend have been dating for 10 months now and I can tell you I am madly in love. I love him. I really do. He makes me feel things I didn't think I could. Emotions I didn't know I had. I love him so much, just thinking of  having to live without him makes me want to die. But I might have to. Boyfriend is originally from Pakistan. He is Muslim. It's his cultural and religious obligation to spend the rest of his life with someone who is Pakistani and Muslim like him. I think it's a load of bullshit. He loves me. Why can't he be with me?

His parents want to arrange a marriage between him...and his cousin. He's 23 now he he 'needs' to get married. To someone who his family accepts. I am not that person.

Call me crazy but I would marry him tomorrow if he asked me. I would become a Muslim, I would learn to speak Urdu. I would take care of him and he would take care of me. But thats not going to happen. He thinks that if our relationship was to go any farther than it is, his family would shun him.

I have managed to love every part of him. It's like his love for me has conditions. I love you BUT you aren't Muslim. I love you BUT you're black, you aren't even Indian, I could never introduce you to my whole family.

It hurts like hell.

Lately he has been pulling away more and more because he doesn't want it to hurt so bad when he inevitably breaks it off to marry is stupid cousin.

I know it will hurt. I don't know why I am even in this relationship. Maybe the longer we stay together the longer I have to convince him that he could be with me? Or it would just be even more painful when it comes to an end. I don't know what to do.

I'm not good enough for him.

Am I Crazy?

Maybe I'm too emotionally invested.

Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm hopeless.

Like a penny with a hole in it.

I am in love. That's what it is. Love.

With someone who loves me.

But because of our cultural differences, he has set up this emotional barrier. A Chinese wall. So that WHEN we break it off (not IF, but WHEN), it won't hurt as much because we both knew this point would come.

Knowing this I still went all in. I put all my emotional eggs in this emotional basket and the thought of them breaking makes me want to die.

I can't live without him. I don't want to. I will be less of a person without him because he will take half of me when he leaves.

I can't face that moment.

Prepare all you want for the storm, it doesn't mean it will rain less.

Withdrawals

Today is easily the day from Hell.

I forgot to take my medication. So I'm probably going to start crying in hysterics the moment I see a leaf fall off of a tree.

I forgot to bring my cigarettes and there was no one around to bum me one. Usually you can rely on the kindness of other smokers when you forget your pack at home, but if they aren't any around you are absolutely screwed.

My boyfriend is ignoring my pleas to take me home early. I really don't think I can spend all day here. I am hungry, emotional and going through withdrawals.

I haven't eaten in about two days. I'm not trying not to eat. I have just lost my appetite.

Blame the stress of the upcoming finals. I probably just tanked a quiz I just took in a class that i've fallen behind in. When my Grandmother died at the beginning of the semester I  missed like 3 classes and I've barely bounced back from that. I'm doing well in my Art Appreciation class, but my parents are not impressed. I went to art school for 3 years in my youth, me doing well in that class doesn't take much effort. Still I wish they would at least pretend to be proud of me when I bring home good grades. I'm not only passing that class, I'm getting a fucking A+. That's a lot better than most of the idiots in that damn class.

The other two classes I'm taking, Political Science and Women & Leisure, i'm not doing so well in. I don't know my precise grade in Poly Sci because my teacher is ancient and doesn't know how to update grades online and I'm far too shy to ask. W&L is just a fucking failure. I'm probably going to have to take it again. My teacher put all the assignments online, because I missed the first few classes because my grandmother died, I didn't know this, and she didn't tell me. So I missed about 4 assignments and 2 quizzes and that made my grade drop like the fucking NASDAQ

Any attempt that I've made to better my grade in that class has just gone horribly. Apparently all the extra credit work that I stayed up for 3 nights doing was unacceptable because she does except extra credit assignments online (which is bullshit because she does every other fucking assignment online) she doesn't accept them 'late'. "Late' meaning that if I turned it in a hour after class. However she accepted all of my OTHER annoying online assignments until MIDNIGHT. Why put different stipulations on the extra credit that I clearly fucking needed! IT'S BULLSHIT! I'M SO MAD JUST THINKING ABOUT IT. I TRIED I REALLY DID AND NOW ITS LIKE ITS FOR NOTHING.

Not only do I have to deal of the self imposed shame of failing a class I spent months taking and hours upon hours of stress fueled effort and time on, but I have to deal with my damn parents. They think that because they are paying for my education, if I fail a class that I'm wasting their money. It's not like I didn't try my hardest to do my best here. I really did. Just thinking about it makes me tear up a bit (These tears are most likely an effect of not taking my medication and being unable to control my emotions, but doesn't make it any less true). They never ask me about school, my father acts as though he has no interest in my studies, he just wants me to fucking graduate so he can say that I did and so I can get a job and stop being such a parasite on him and his finances.

I really think I need to go home as soon as possible and get in bed.

When I don't take my meds I become a mess physically and emotionally. I'm trying so hard to keep it together right now. My mind is racing, my emotions are hanging over a cliff and I feel like taking a nap in the parking lot.

Watch, if I ask my boyfriend to take me home then he will accuse me of using him for a ride.

I just need help RIGHT NOW or I'm probably going to end up hurting someone, most likely, myself.

Concerns

I feel like I'm losing it.

Finals.

I have 2 projects due and I haven't even started one. I have a test due tonight. Haven't even read the material.

I hate this.

All I want to do is roll myself into a blanket burrito and eat Honey Buns by the truck load.

I can't though.

I need money.

Maybe I should become a cam girl. I hear the make money and never have to leave their room.

Or maybe I should become a waitress at a strip club? Nah, I don't have a strippers body. I can't dance.

I wish I was more creative. I wish I could express myself in other ways. Ways that don't put me into debt. Ways that don't make me bleed. Ways that don't make me cry.

I need something else. I just don't know what that 'something else' is.

La Muerte

I think about death a lot.

It could be because I am depressed. It could be that I watch nothing but Investigation Discovery. Or it could be that life is only temporary, that someday we will all meet our maker and that this doesn't scare me as much as it would someone else because I don't fear what is inevitable.

Death isn't a bad thing. It's just the end of a life. You only have so much breath in you, your heart will only beat so many times until it stops.

My grandmother passed away three months ago. She was very sick and we knew it was only a matter of time, but I was still shocked when it actually happened. At her wake, she was in this gigantic pink double vaulted casket that had flowers all over it, wearing a bright pink suit. I touched her hand. It was cold. I don't know what I expected, she was dead. She was gone. I knew that. But knowing this information didn't spare me the shock of touching her cold lifeless hand. This woman who loved me fiercely was gone, all that was left was her shell.

At the funeral my father kisses her on the forehead before they closed her casket. Just as he kissed my grandfather at his funeral. I wondered if the shock of the cold skin registered with him as it did with me. He did it before, 14 years earlier, but I wonder if he thought the same things I thought. Felt the same feelings I felt.

I often think about my own death. The thought of not knowing what comes next scares me. I was raised to believe in an afterlife, but now that I'm older and wiser I don't think anything comes next. I just picture, blackness. A cold, empty darkness. I feel very empty and dark right now...so will not breathing make a difference? I wonder who will miss me when I'm gone, who will come to my funeral, who will visit my grave on my birthday or Christmas and bring fake flowers, balloons and stuffed animals to my headstone, even though its tacky, just to let ME know, wherever I am, that they wish I was with them instead.

I don't know why I wonder these things. I know my curiosity will never be satisfied, as when I do die, I will never see what will happen. That doesn't stop me from wondering, from thinking about how bad the people who have fucked me over will feel when they find out I'm dead. A vindictive thought, but one that happens.

Mortality will always be in the front of my mind. I will always wonder because I will never know the truth. Somehow I find this even more sad than actually dying.

Facebook

Facebook. Why do I even bother to visit that damn website anymore?

It's become a habit. I open up Safari and click on Facebook, it's what I've been doing for, what feels like decades of social networking.

In the past week I have seen the death of a marriage, the exposure of a drug addict and the 2 closet come outs, not to mention the countless birth announcements (marriage/commitment announcements seem to be at an all time low on my newsfeed, ironically) and oversharing.

I can't take it anymore. I gotta stop logging in. It's making me feel even shittier about my life. And trust me, that's not an easy thing to do.

A girl I work with who is a year younger than me has basically aired all of her dirty laundry on Facebook, saying that she is divorcing her no good, lazy, broke husband. She got married when she was 19. She became a mother less than a year later. She wasn't physically/emotionally/financially ready for a relationship like that, or motherhood for that matter. Anyone could tell you this. I knew it was going to happen...but I didn't think I would see it play out on Facebook, with all the intimate, messy details on my fucking newsfeed. I feel kind of sick saying these things, I try so hard not to pass judgment on others, but this is my secret blog so whatever!

A girl I used to hang out with in high school decides Facebook is the perfect forum to announce that she is a drug addict. Let me tell you, I totally saw this coming as well. She was the kind of chick who had a new boyfriend every week, and she loved each one as intensely and quickly as the last. Then she started dating this gross guy from my math class who dropped out after repeating the 9th grade 3 times. I saw him not so long after he dropped out, he look terrible, it was obvious he was on drugs. Then she started dating him and she started doing drugs. He moved into her house (she was 16 he was 18 and her mother didn't care apparently) she barely graduated high school and became a full time addict, doing God knows what to pay for it. Then she dumped Gross Drug Dude and hooked up with her usual parade of boyfriends, and now she's 90 days sober.

Lets be clear, I haven't spoken to the girl since 2008. I know all of this crap from Facebook.

Don't you think you might be sharing a bit too much if I can write your entire story like an HBO screenplay, simply going off of your Facebook posts?

Also, pretty much all of my good friends from high school have either had babies, announced pregnancies or came out of the closet. Seriously, we all went to the same health class, we learned about birth control, why the FUCK aren't they using it?

We are all around 22 years old. We shouldn't be bitching on Facebook about how shitty our babies daddies are, or celebrating our release from rehab, or bitching about our next court date.

We should be graduating and starting new productive lives.

Why is this happening to all the people around me? And why do they feel the need to share it ALL on Facebook?

It's just not a fun website to go to anymore, they can play Words With Friends all they want, I'm gonna be on Tumblr following blogs that belong to 14 year olds because they seem to have their shit together.

Movies

Roger Ebert, a noted film critic, passed away today. Hearing the news bought me back to when I was 10. The symptoms if my depression had just started to kick in and I was becoming more isolated and anti-social. To fill the time, I would watch movies. I wanted to watch GOOD movies though, after seeing so many terrible ones. So I would stay up until 1:30 am so I could watch At The Movies with Ebert & Roper.

Roger Ebert is the kind of person I want to be like when I grow up, he was passionate, opinionated, intelligent and had a wonderful way of verbally handing people's asses to them that I only hope I can do someday.

To honor his memory, I found a few quotes from BF of Eberts best pannings of films. They are funny, honest and illuminating. The best three


About 'Last Rites': "It is not only bad filmmaking, but it is offensive as well - offensive to my intelligence."

About 'A Lot Like Love': "To call A Lot like Love dead in the water is an insult to water."

About 'The Brown Bunny': "I had a colonoscopy once, and they let me watch it on TV. It was more entertaining than The Brown Bunny."
(He was right y'all, this was easily the worst thing I ever saw. Comparing it to the video of Budd Dwyer killing himself and the video of that guy with a severe syphilis outbreak that caused his junk to swell out to 50xs its size...I'd rather watch both shock videos on a loop with my eyes taped open.)

See you at the movies.

Silver Lining

Today I woke up not feeling my greatest.

Last night I had an argument with my boyfriend. And in the way most arguments go...he decided to bring up everything that I had ever done that pissed him off.

A few months ago he managed to hack into my phone and fine pictures of me and my ex, taken over a year ago, which I had tucked away on a photo hiding app on my phone. I don't know why I never deleted the pictures, half of me forgot, the other half of me wanted to remember that part of my life, as much as it sucked. But he found them and even though we argue about this long ago...he wan't to argue about it again.

In the end we ended up having a somewhat civil conversation about our feelings.

My boyfriend has a few emotional issues, that he self-medicates with drugs and alcohol. He's gotten better about it in the past few months. We had this bad blow-up on New Years, so bad I can't even begin to write about it here. The short story is that he was drunk and not so nice to me, and he decided after that to better control his urges to drink.

He tends to get out of control around alcohol. I don't think he's a total alcoholic but I know the signs, I have a few family members with that problem, and his brother and father are both alcoholics. I just don't want the same for him.

He came over today. We made love. And he finally took me to see Silver Linings Playbook, which I had been wanting to see forever. He actually ended up really liking the movie, which I knew he would because it's one of the best films ever. Made me feel a little less self conscious about being crazy.

I own my craziness. I know at times I can get a little unhinged, manic, and downright nuts but I own it. Even though I'm a few cards short of the full deck, I still wouldn't have it any other way. I don't know what the hell I would do with myself if I was normal and well adjusted. No thanks, I'd rather be a little insane.

I once read somewhere that depressed people, are actually a lot more receptive. They see the world for what it is, not what they want it to be. Call me crazy (haha) but I'd rather be the way that I am.

There are silver linings in this world, there will always be one good part of a shitty situation.

I think he's my silver lining. When life is really horrible and I feel like giving up, he's the one good part of it to hold on to.

I never even thought I'd have a serious boyfriend, or even date for that matter. I didn't date until I was 19. I was never really interested in boys and it took a while for them to be interested in me. But then you meet somebody, that spark becomes ignited and you feel this incredible feeling. One you never thought existed before. You feel everything. You feel alive. It could be love, or it could be raging hormones but for someone who goes from feeling empty and lonely to sad and suicidal on a daily basis...this feeling is something amazing.

I never want to let it go.

Relationshit

My boyfriend judges me.

Judges me because I had a past before him.

A past that he has invented in his head mostly, because he never bothered to ask me what really happened...but yet when I try to tell him, he refuses to listen.

Does that make any fucking sense to you?

So what you think has happened is better than the less exciting truth, the one you refuse to acknowledge?

I don't understand him.

Why do I even let myself get into these stupid arguments with him?

He thinks he's always right, I call him an asshole, we maybe have makeup sex, then things are ok for a little while until someone gets pissed off again.

Sick of this never-ending cycle of emotion that is easy to avoid if I could just decide to stop feeling things.

What the fuck am I going to do?

Fate is a Bitch

Well, I took my driving skills test today.

I told no one. Not even the boyfriend. Only my mother knew.

Failing the test time and time again has a way of kicking the positivity out of you.

I failed again.

Let me get this out of the way: I'm not a bad driver. I can drive, I drive every fucking day of my life. Bu t the state I live in has very tricky rules and regulations that I am stuck with. The driving test is very difficult. Basically you have to preform two parking skills to start off with, under very strict regulations and under 3 minutes. That's my problem.

I can't park in under 3 minutes the way the want me to. I parallel parked twice. I did it textbook. But apparently I wasn't close enough to the curb, and you have to start the skill over again from scratch if the instructor says you didn't do it right the first time. If you fail to complete the skill in under 3 minutes you automatically fail.

I have automatically failed the test six times now. SIX FUCKING TIMES.

The first time I hit the cone, I was nervous..

The second time I ran out of time parking.

As I did for the third and forth.

The fifth time I committed a 'rolling stop' which basically means I didn't stop at the fucking stop sign for 5 seconds or longer. FIVE SECONDS. They fucking time you.

I've been so disappointed time and time again.

All I want to do is get in the car and drive.

I hate having to mold my schedule around everyone elses. I hate being late for work because my Dad is the one thats driving me. I hate that, if I want a fucking burger from the burger place down the street, I can't go get one. I hate having to wait until someone else is ready to go before I can go. I hate that I am constantly depending on everyone else, and that I can't depend on myself. I hate that I'm even writing this hate-filled rant because I can't pass a test that I have taken five times before.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I pass this test? Why is it that I, a person who is extra cautious and careful when getting behind the wheel, who stops at every stop sign (I'm taking a COMPLETE stop), honors every crosswalk, signals well in advance when I plan on turning anywhere can't fucking get a license to drive but the crazy cat lady down the street who almost ran my dog over can.

I am actually more likely to get hit by a car, by someone who HAS their license, than I am to actually get my license. I'm sure someone with a math brain can prove that statement statistically.

I. Am. FUCKED.

Nerves

I'm nervous.

Tomorrow by 1pm my fate for the next 6 months will be decided.

Here we go...

Calm

I once read somewhere that before someone commits suicide, once they have made the decision in their minds but haven't actually committed the act, the person feels a sort of blissed out, peaceful calm. As if they know that soon everything is going to be alright, because they have made their choice and are at peace with it.

I first thought how strange that was, how before someone takes their own life, they feel nothing but peace and happiness.

People go on with their lives in search of the same feeling, day in and day out.

Whole books have been written on the subject.

I guess the difference between the two is that one person has completely given up. And another person will keep on fighting.

I think I've come to a breakthrough.

Hotline

Tonight has been a tough night for me.

The night has never been my friend.

Insomnia. Migraines. The hollow silence that slowly drives me insane.

There's nothing to like about it.

The loneliness is the worst.

Not having anyone to talk to about it is the killer.

You feel a rush of negative emotion, practically drowning you. But you take those feelings and keep them inside your head and trapped in your soul. Which is slowly but surely, dying from the toxins of your depression.

You stare at the ceiling, tune out the TV and think. About everything.

Something stupid you said 2 weeks ago, something you forgot to say the day before, choices you could have made...but didn't. The ones you regret. The ones that haunt you.

Tonight, is one of those nights. I lay here with the worst migraine, and empty stomach and I mind full of terrible thoughts that I wish belonged to someone else.

I looks through the contacts on my phone. No one to call. No one I felt comfortable enough calling to talk to about how I feel. I don't know what that says about me. I googled the numbers for the 24 hour suicide and crisis hotline. I ALMOST made a call to one of them. But the fact that my desperation reached such a pathetic level that I would call a complete stranger to talk about confusing feelings I've been having, ones that make me feel hopeless and miserable, ones that I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY THEY EXIST...made me cry and feel even worse.

I know I should call. I know it would be best. But I just CAN'T . In my mind calling them will make me the bonafide super loser that I am and I'm just not ready to admit that to myself.

I had a thought about my sister today. We are both pretty emotionally unstable and flawed however while I tend to hurt myself she tends to hurt everyone else.

I take what I feel and bottle it up inside until I can cut, or shop, or ritualize. She just treats me like shit.

We are all so different. Yet we are all still the same.

I wish I could have my past back. I wish I could have yesterday back. I know I would do better the second time around. I know if I could solve yesterday's problems today...tomorrow would be better.

xx

Money

Broke as a fucking joke.

What's new?

Today I get a hospital bill for $470 and that's AFTER insurance.

I'm about $5,000 in debt.

I only make $8.31an hour. 30 hours a week.

You know what sucks? I don't have to be dealing with this. My Grandmother died recently and left me $10,000.

But my father is the executor of the will and he made it clear he won't give me the money. He thinks I will squander it away. I don't think I will ever get it unless I get married, go to college or something else.

Legally he needs to give me the fucking money, what I do with it is my business...but he won't. Unless I sue him for it.

He's such a fucking control freak.

I'm 22 years old and he's still trying to tell me what to do and how to spend my money.

That $5 grand didn't occur over one too many shopping sprees, it was buying shit for school, a computer, a printer, damn college textbooks.

Now I have this debt hanging over my head and I can't get it under control, despite having thousands of dollars that could save me...that I can't touch.

FUCK. THIS. SHIT.

Alone

I just wanted to be alone tonight.

I don't want my shitty mood or my crappy attitude about everything to piss anyone off.

But being alone...is lonely.

Nothing to do but change the way I'm laying in bed, stare at the walls, halfway listen to the TV in a dark room.

The Internet isn't entertaining me. Nothing work shopping for online. I'm just bored.

This is what I wanted though.

It's like when you get exactly what you wanted and realize you didn't want it at all.

Fucking confused & hopeless

Restless

Can't sleep.

Got a billion thoughts running through my head.

What remains beneath them is the loneliness I feel. I feel so alone. I am alone. I chase people away. I even told my dog to leave me alone. Do I really have the right to complain then? When my loneliness is self imposed?

It's more than a physical loneliness. It's emotional. I know these feelings that I have and the reasons that I am feeling them...nobody else could quite understand the way that I do, although I badly wish they would.

Why do I feel like this though? Was it because I was molested? Was it because my Dad didn't hug me enough or because my sister has refused to speak to me in the past 3 months? Is it because I have no friends? Because I was passed over for a promotion at my job for the second time in a row? Because I'm failing my classes or because I'm in $3,000 in debt and I don't even know how I will begin to pay it off (Especially with my terrible compulsive online shopping habit)?

Those are the usual suspects, the things that weigh my mind down and have caused me to sprout grey hairs at the tender age of 22...I'd love to have one solid reason backed with solid evidence as to why I feel like this, especially at night, when I'm waiting for my insomnia drugs to kick in...but I don't. It's just not possible to say this is the cause to my effect and frankly, it fucking sucks.

I don't know why I have this need to have a reason for everything, a reaction to this action. It feels good though, it's closure.

A Slight Introduction

They say everything happens for a reason, but does it really?

Is there a reason why I find it impossible to quit smoking? Is there a reason why I find myself alone with dark thoughts all the time? Is there an actual reason why I feel this way?

Seriously, I'd like to know.

Depression is a motherfucker. I'm pretty sure everyone has their 'reasons' why they are depressed, I just can't figure out mine.

So I obsess over it. I ask myself the same question in my mind again and again and again until I am more depressed than I was before.

Mental illness is sort of funny in a not-so-funny at all kind of way. You break your arm and all your friends sign your cast. You have surgery and everyone wants to see your stitches. You have the stomach flu, tell people how it was coming out of both ends and they listen, but when your depressed...nobody wants to listen to your problems. Nobody is going to be there to hug you when you are having a mental breakdown on the bathroom floor. Nobody is going to ask you if you are ok, and really TRULY try to understand what's going on in your deep dark mind. If you put a smile on your face and say 'I'm OK' when they ask you how you have been half heartily, then they will think you are okay because they don't know any better.

I'm starting this blog because I've been dealing with this for almost 10 years now. I'm tired of telling people that I'm ok because it puts them at ease. I'm so sick of waiting to talk to my therapist about everything that is going on inside my head (and we never really get to everything, there isn't enough time in the world.) I want to write about what I'm thinking and feeling everyday of my miserable fucking life because I want people to know. Problems only stay problems if you are silent about them, maybe if I reach out to the universe, through the anonymous internet, someone, somewhere will understand. I'm just looking for that one person. I hope your out there, get ready to read.

JB