Mood: feeling doomed Before my eyes fully opened, I was cursed to have a foul day. I felt it. I still feel it, and I've only been up for 45 minutes. I'm more mentally off than usual today. I strongly dislike waking up with some obscene sense of anxiety. I can't think straight, and all I'm able to notice is this overwhelming sense of self-hatred, which was kind enough to pay me an unhesitant visit. I've said all of these things so many times over that I feel I'm just never going to get any better. These past 6 months have done some pretty severe damage on me, and with every passing day, I truly feel sanity doing some back pedaling. What's the point of going on? What's the point of even asking? I've been asking and trying to find answers for longer than I can recall and have come up with no substantial answer. Some people will tell you that you should be glad because you have a family, or some friends. When people say that to me, I know instantly that they don't get very depressed, because if they did, they'd know that there is nearly NOTHING on the planet that could lighten spirits. The true crushing weight of being fully meloncholy overmatches the notion of having some family and few friends. It's like trying to satiate a starving lion with a lima bean. I understand that they try to help as best they know how, but I can't help but feel irritated at their attempts only because, feeling bad enough as it is, I feel my intelligence is insulted in thinking that by their given advice, it makes it seem that I'm actually dense enough to somehow forget to realize that I have family and a couple of friends. Thanks for cracking the case. I have family and friends. Why couldn't I think of that? Oh wait. I did. And it doesn't help now, or when I first thought of it 17 years ago. I'm taking it out on the wrong people. They don't deserve condescention in repayment for their advice. Though, I really would prefer to hear none at all, if that's the type of advice you seek to give me. To escape from this flesh. To leave it behind and fall down and kiss the feet of something new, only to soil it with a filthy mouth. All I ask for is to delay the inevitable long enough to catch my breath or find some balance of contentment. I really don't ask for much. But maybe I should start asking for more, because at least when I receive next to nothing, I can say "Eh, well I did ask for a lot", instead of saying "I ask for so little, and receive nothing". At least then there would be an excuse, because right now, I see no excuses and feel victimized. But I need you, even as I hide my face from you. It's the shame that makes me do it. I'm falling apart.
Faster than you ever wanted to go
8:16 a.m.//07.26.06
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