I'm going round in an emotional circle, I can feel it. I'm 12 again. I'm all moody and hunched and psycho depressed and I'm thinking about death way too much. Is this what happens when you totally give up on yourself? Or is this a circle of depression?
See, I was wondering why I had been so honest and that I managed not to scream at my patronising doctor this morning when I swallowed my pride and asked for a psychiatrist. And I wondered why I gave Richard that 'story'. And I wondered why, only a week ago, I was almost free. I felt normal, like happy, crazy, beautiful, angsty normal like any other 16 year old. And then the depression is back and I'm near tears but I'm not surprised because the depression is back and my Salesmen have got down on my knees, on the fucking edge and I don't know if I really want to live any more.
I just, can't believe I've given up myself. I just assume I'm hated and that I'll always hate me so why bother...
I just believe I'll cut forever so why be nice to myself. Why be nice to anyone?
And I know the meaning of life. To figure it out, to search, to travel. So I'm done. I'm never gonna have children, I've fallen in love (once with Ria, now Alice), I sort of understand the truth about love and I've given back to the world. I just haven't had sex or had my works published, but I'm sure that can be done when I'm dead. Whats left?
I can't believe I've gotten this far, and that I was close, and that I've just soo lost it. Almost, crying, I bid you goodnight. I'll see you on monday. I'm going to Manchester to do journalism stuff. (I'm living my dream, but so fucking disconnected. Exactly the same thing I would have written four years ago. I'm back where I started. I have nothing left.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Good point, disgruntled goat. Have you been to Italy? You have a better chance of it than I do.
My dream is to someday go to England. It won't happen for quite a few years but I hold out for that.
I know this is tough, I know this is very hard for you. I know this because I live on the 26th floor and sometimes find myself looking down and wondering what would happen. But something pushes me away from that window. It's the thought of how this would affect my family and friends if I gave in and gave up.
Don't give up. Please.
Post a Comment