Apr 28, 2008 00:13
While in the library, I wrote this down in my bio notebook:
"If I ever go through with killing myself, know it's not a bad thing."
I really do mean that. It'd obviously be what I wanted and selfish.
I can't believe that I came here thinking everything was going to be okay. That was dumb.
It's almost funny...as soon as I thinking everything's going well - thinking I have a ton of great friends, a new love interest who actually loves me back, a brain that doesn't prefer depression over one that relishes in it - everything turns to shit. It's as simple as that. This has happened hundreds of times before, so why do I expect it top stop now? I feel exactly as I did when this all started. That was seven years ago, and you'd of thought I'd be a bit more mature by now (and maybe even a little less melodramatic).
I'm faced with constant irony:
My life is characterized by death.
What the fuck.
And if this has to do with my being out of medicine, I'm pissed. That doesn't make things better. That doesn't mean that what I'm experiencing is mere withdrawal from a mind-altering drug. It means that I can't even control my own brain. This fucking brain that's not even mine.