Personal

It’s only the second day of school and I’m already overwhelmed.

Most of the problem is I can’t find time to go buy my supplies because I’m in class or working when these places are open. I don’t have a debit card anymore, so I can’t buy them online either. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I’m stressed. I’m depressed. What really sucks is my dad is causing me a lot of stress right now. I am trying my best to find time to see him, but first he said not to come one day because he’s been going to bed early, then I couldn’t because I got scheduled to start at DP Dough, now he was expecting me to come Saturday when I told him I only can if I sell my Lollapalooza pass, which I didn’t, so I have to go. Every time I go over there I get upset because Lisa is so rude and disrespectful to me. She talks forever about things I don’t give a shit about, and I don’t even want to talk to her. I just want to see my dad. I just want to spend time with him. I just want to talk to him. Why can’t he come to Normal and visit me? He always gives me a hard time when I’m there about not seeing him very often, but it’s hard when I’m working two jobs to support myself, going to school full time, and still have no money because I have to pay so many bills. I am so bothered by all of this. God dammit.

Fuck.

Here I am. Twenty years old. I am a depressed wreck. I am nothing like the person I dreamed myself to be at twenty. I remember being twelve years old, not even old enough to imagine quite yet my teenage years, let alone my twenties. I pictured myself being an adult, much like my mother, stressing myself to the point of exhaustion, working at a real job to pay for my house, and maybe being married. I remember being fifteen, trying to convince myself to not commit suicide because by the time I’m twenty, I’ll be happier. I look back to when I was eighteen, only a mere two years ago, when I first stepped into adulthood convincing myself that life would start to look up.

I was wrong.

I am twenty years old, and suicide is a thought that often crosses my mind. At times, it seems like the only reasonable and realistic option. If only I had one person who could be around any time I needed them, it would impact my life tremendously. Maybe I would know what it means to feel happy. Maybe I would have a slight clue as to how it feels to be full of life, but that is but a dream. I know nothing but the emptiness I bring upon myself due to my constant racing thoughts, times spent alone, and depression always turning my world cold and dark.

I am twenty years old, and I stress myself to the point of exhaustion. To the point where my depression takes over so harshly that I consider just running away or ending my life because I can’t imagine being relaxed enough to somewhat enjoy myself. I could not utter a single name of a person whom I would consider my best friend in the same way they would consider me theirs. I am insignificant to anyone and anything. I am nothing.

Here I am. Twenty years old. I am a depressed wreck.

It’s getting more difficult to find a single thing I like about myself.

What is going on?

I am starting to believe that I don’t even know how to be happy anymore.

I am so worried that I am going to ruin this relationship.

My mind sucks.

I always get slightly disappointed if I wake up and it’s raining and I’m not hung over.

The only time I can ever enjoy being hung over is when it’s raining. It’s so peaceful. 

I wish I could go to therapy today.

I feel awful.

I feel alone.

I feel insignificant.

I feel like nobody likes me/cares.

This post is stupid.

I feel like a fucking drama queen.

My first day of therapy was really good.

All we did was go over basic topics that are pretty significant in my life and have probably lead to this depression/worsened it.

I feel a lot better already.

It’s a lot easier to write when I’m an emotional wreck.

I suppose that’s the plus side to depression.