One Year Reunion (sorta)

            I’m realizing how depressing my life truly is. It’s not a matter of how much the depression is actually affecting my life, nor is it a matter of how Caley fucked me up. It’s an actual matter of “Shit, my life is a mess.”

            I’ve lost God. I’m not entirely sure why, but He’s not in my life anymore. And I think that has everything to do with this. He’s punishing me for leaving Him. Why did I leave him? Hell if I know, but I did, and He’s gone, and it’s my fault.

            Maybe it’s these damned pills. Ever since Caley left, I’ve been on these fucking antidepressants that have given me the gift/curse of total apathy. I no longer give a shit about school or movie-making or keeping up with friends or anything. I’m hollow, empty, invisible, and hopeless.

            Hopeless. That’s the word I use to describe my entire fucking life now. Hopeless. I amount to so little, if anything, and it’s because I just have no desire to make it all better.

            Well, OK, that’s a lie. I have the desire. I have the want. I just lack the drive, the determination. And no, they’re not the same thing.

            I have braces on my lower set of teeth now. It’s a constant reminder of how much I suck lately. It’s not just the physical ugliness, but it’s the pain, the total lack of comfort. I stay up late to masturbate to porn. I obsess over a dating site to try and score a girlfriend. I skip class to sleep. I mean…this isn’t me. I’m better than this.

            Was better than this. Now, I’m not sure.

            You know what the worst part is? I know now that killing myself would be pointless. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. At first I was going to kill myself to get back at that ***** Caley. But then I realized that she wouldn’t have cared at all if I died. I would’ve been left killing myself for nothing. And this life I’m “living” is driving me up a fucking wall and I just can’t stop for reasons I don’t quite understand.

            All of this shit happened a year ago come May. A year ago, May. I’ve been seeing a fantastic and intelligent therapist, I’ve been on pills to help me regain my sanity, and I’ve been interacting with dozens of people who have been trying their best to help me through this. So why does it seem like things have gotten worse, and not better?

            I relate to songs a lot more lately. That’s probably the only thing. Search “Waste of Paint” by Bright Eyes and “No Children” by The Mountain Goats. Those songs…are basically my life.

            It’s sad. Nobody gets it. I’m failing classes and my parents are pissed. I don’t feel like hanging out with friends, so they get pissed. I fuck up my life, and I (deep down) get pissed. I just wish people got it. But, of course, how could they? How would they? Just about a year ago, they thought depression was all a state of mind that, with strength, would just kinda go away. Well then I guess I’m a weakling because I’ve tried and it’s still here.

            I’ve got class tomorrow. I doubt I’ll go. I don’t really see the point. I mean, I KNOW the point, but I don’t see it.

            It’s hard to explain…whatever. I’m gonna go get something to eat or something. Man, these braces are fucking killing me…