…

Misery always comes after the briefest bit of happiness. Should I go out of my way to never be happy as to avoid being unhappy?

Here’s A New Game

How long can I go without properly feeding myself?

What’s There To Say?

I do realize I haven’t posted much lately. There’s just nothing to blog about.

Went to North Tay this summer. It was boring. Emily was gone half the time.

My therapist came to the conclusion that I am “dead inside”.

Rah

Life is useless.

A Month Medicated

The fuzziness has gone away. So has the good moods. Back to the way I was before the Prozac: miserable and suicidal.

Maybe I should start cutting again. Self-destruction sounds so fun.

I’m Still Here

I start medication (Prozac) tomorrow morning.

Just Don’t Want To Do This Anymore

So tired. Just want to stop existing. What’s the lethal dose of arsenic? I’m getting bored with life again.

Ah Fuck It

Suicidal again. Fun times. I keep thinking and wondering how much it’d hurt to disembowel oneself.

Also, I keep humming The Crüxshadows’ Citadel. I don’t know why. It has nothing to do with my current mood.

Or Am I Just Being the Average Teenager?

I know that teens are moody. And I know that a lot of teens feel suicidal at one point in time. And some of them hurt themselves. But should it really last this long?

What does it matter, anyway? It must not matter. Every time I’ve reached out for help, I’ve got nothing but empty promises. If the fact that I’m suicidal doesn’t scare my family, does that mean I don’t matter?

It hurts.

She’s Right

“Scream all you want; no one’s listening” That’s Caitlin’s MSN message. And I swear to God it’s the truth.

Can’t you hear me? I’m screaming, scatching at the walls. I want out! Can’t you hear me over the deafening silence? No, you’re too busy looking away, listening to other people. When will you notice me? When I’m legally declared crazy? When I’ve finally grown the balls to kill myself? No, that’s too long. I can’t be saved then.

If you do something now, I can be saved, I’ll retain my sanity. I won’t feel that urge to toss myself in front of speeding vehicles anymore, or daydream of OD’ing on sleeping pills. Save me, you motherfucker. I can’t get myself out of this hole by myself. All you have to do is give me a hand, a referral to a psychiatrist. I’ll get better, I swear. I don’t WANT to be suicidal all the time. I don’t WANT to have these crazy high-low episodes. Please, just help me.

…

I’m so low at the moment. I feel like shit. My self-esteem is gone. My tear ducts say it might be a good time to let some tears flow, but I don’t feel like crying. I want to end this misery. I don’t know what to do at the moment. I keep going in circles; I go through my usual webpages over and over and over without really taking them in. Someone give me my sanity back please?

GRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

Okay, I have been feeling like the living dead just of late. I’m so tired. I can’t figure out a good sleeping pattern so I don’t fall asleep in math. And pretty much every other class.

So, afterschool, I decided to look for the reason why I’m so damn tired. I found this site called Healthline. It allows you to list the symptoms of what you are feeling and it will give you a list of what could be wrong with you. And every time I do the freaking thing, it keeps telling me that I either have major depression or bipolar disorder II.

I don’t like the prospect of being bipolar. And I just so happen to have most of the symptoms of bipolar disorder II. I also know that this thing is not a real diagnosis; as mentioned before, it is only a list of what could be wrong with me. I don’t like it just the same.

Suicide

I’m thinking about it myself. I don’t know if Caitlin is alright; I haven’t grown a pair and called her mother yet.

306 by Emilie Autumn

“Three hundred and six
In only six years
If it was an accident
Where are the tears
I am still unidentified
Behind the cathedral
Is where my body hides
But I’m not inside
Just one of sixteen
In only one day
If it was a game
Then why couldn’t I play
I am the abandoner
But still I remain
And my frozen pulse quickens
As the black plot thickens

Like this story I heard
A lifetime ago
Where a girl
(And this is funny)
Took her life
But what she doesn’t know
Is how long it takes
For the water to rise
And the breath to stop fighting
And the cold to close her eyes

Morality plays
On stages of sin
The easy way out
Or the easy way in
I am still overglorified
My reasons to live
Were my reasons to die
But at least they were mine
Now I’ve freedom unbound
Cut the laces of life
The pistol
The poison
The noose
Or the knife
I have chosen my instrument
And said no goodbyes
And my frozen pulse quickens
As the black plot thickens

Like this story I heard
A lifetime ago
Where a girl
(And this is funny)
Took her life
But what she didn’t know
Is how long it takes
For the water to rise
And the breath to stop fighting
And the cold to close her eyes”

Another Bit of Nostalgia

I wish you were still around. I miss our old conversations. At times, they were almost normal, like when we spent a whole hour talking about Converse shoes. We sounded like normal teenagers. Especially when complaining about our parents. I remember getting so pissed at Darren when you said he yelled at you and dragged you into Cindy and his arguments.

The ups and downs. There were so many, but at least you were in control. The doctors fucked you up. They really did. I miss you. God, how I miss you.

Trapped

Stuck within my own mind. Thoughts never ceasing, driving me mad. Will this not go away? Will I never, ever escape this torment? You’d be disgusted to know that all of what I need is in my head. Don’t need to talk to people cuz you’ve all got a copy inside my head. That’s right, you could be sitting across from me, talking to a good friend and ignoring me while in my head, you and that friend are talking with me, oh-so-interested in what I have to say. And you always ask all the right questions, gasp in all the right places and love me unconditionally.

I sound like a sociopath. Perhaps I am. But I want to talk to people for real, not this all-in-my-head business. I want to have friends again. I want to stop being a self-pitying, self-loathing, self-serving, frigid, antisocial bitch. I want to stop imagining my life away. I need to stop daydreaming about a family that loves me for who I am, about being lovable… This is just depressing.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God

“Look at what you’ve done AGAIN! You keep hurting Caitlin.”
“I didn’t want to, I swear.”
“Well, then, you could at least have said “bye” to her on MSN before you ditched her to cut yourself!”
“…”
“Got nothing to say for yourself?! You are the worst friend imaginable. Don’t talk to me!”
“How can I not? You’re a part of this body, this mind, no matter how much we both hate it.”
“…”
“NOW look who has nothing to say! And you! Why didn’t YOU do anything? You’re supposed to be the stronger side, the smarter one! You could have done something. But no, you’re just as much a coward as me.”

It’s Always Wondering, Wondering…

There are 2 forces within me, and when I look for a way to claw myself out of this mind-set, this pit of numbness and apathy, they collide. One is all weepy, with an inferior complex the size of Jupiter. It believes that I can never match up to anything and is afraid of everything. The other force is quite adamant there’s nothing wrong with me. It’s also antisocial, angry and uncaring. They both agree on one thing though: if I went to a therapist, the therapist would say there’s nothing mentally wrong with me.

Teachers. They Like To Pry Into Your Mind and Life

So, yeah, my math teacher’s prying into my life again. Depression this, chemical imbalance that, your thyroid glands may be malfunctioning, it’s not your fault, go get checked.

I Can’t Keep My Fucking Trap Shut, Can I?

I confessed my depression to yet another teacher: Ms Saad. I’m not sure what’s gonna happen now. I’m an idiot. Am I so obvious? She asked me that, actually, if I suffered from depression. I said yes. She also asked if I took anything for it; I said no. Then she said that she suffered from it, too. And then, of course, she had to hug me and say “God bless you”. In front of other students. Which got some looks. She also said she worried about me. She’d be the second teacher to do that.

A Mess of Things

So yeah. I had another meltdown like fifteen minutes ago. They always seem to happen right after the happy runs out. I was happy tonight. What a shock, huh?

There were creepers on Nexopia tonight. One of them I think I recognised from a profile picture.

I’m losing inordinate amounts of weight. I’ve lost almost 10 pounds in the last 3 weeks. And I have a REALLY hard time losing weight, so this is a surprise to me.

People on WoW are douchebags. Really and truly. A Tauren and a Troll were chasing me yesterday. And Hordies say that the Horde has nicer people than the Alliance. Fuck that. All I did was go within 200 yards of those fuckers. Me with my level 21 Night Elf Druid vs 2 stupid level ?? Hordies. EDIT: Fuck that, Druids suck PERIOD.