I’m in that space right now where I can’t tell if I’m depressed because of the meds (Xanax and Prozac) or depressed because of me. I felt so blank on the way home it was hard to keep myself from just driving off the highway. I feel confused, and tired of being confused, and apathetic to the act of breathing. It’s so strange…. Yet again, I’m not sad, I’m not mad, I just feel like I could wink out of existence at any moment. Like, just slip into death. I’m already 27, aren’t I too old for this sort of melodrama?
I love to see beauty, I want to be a part of beauty, but I’m much too far in character and appearance from that sweet delicate existence. I’m not pretty enough for sadness but I think I could be quite beautiful in death. Maybe my most meaningful moment would be in death. Maybe that’s where one finds fulfillment and purpose.