A rant...to just get things out.
So..I ain't doin so hot. I'm better at writing then I am at talking but right now both seem a little insane.
I can honestly say I've never felt this way before. I mean I was depressed through my teens, but I had a reason to be. Now I just feel like a fucking failure. I have Chris, who in more ways then one is prolly the only reason I'm still here. I remember the night I met him...I was planning to run, anywhere...to get away from my mother and my situation before. Drinking a bottle of vodka a night by myself and waking up with a little less emotion then I had the night before. Watching my brother and my mother throw their life away, and not realizing I was doing the same thing. The only difference was I was hurting myself, and they well...were hurting everyone else.
On the other front I've got this wonderful guy, I mean yes he has his faults but when it comes down to it...he one amazing fucking person. I have my own place...a nice car, great friends. Then sometimes, sadly I notice that none of it matters. There's this invisible tug somewhere in the back of my mind that just wants to lash out. Steal or indulge in hallucinations provided free by my over active imagination. I'm spending money like crazy and I know I shouldn't. The urge to bruise or cut or bleed is becoming more solid then just a hallow picture of the past. Not that I would ever do anything...I'm bound to normality by pure guilt. I hate when people worry or fuss over me... I guess it might be because my mother used to pull guilt trips when I was young...I dunno. When I speak my words seem hollow even to me.
I'm just a shell of what I used to be. Cracked and on the brink of breaking. What if it did? I mean allowing myself to do and feel as I please wouldn't get me anywhere. I don't want to go back to Chris putting peroxide over words carved into my legs. he's already dealt with me almost dying and being bed ridden like some old fuckin piece of work. What am I supposed to do...talk about it? What's that going to solve? Have some more people think I'm this weak little emo kid. Fuck that. I dunno.
I miss my friend Mikey. so so much...and I know that I lost his friendship. I'm not sure how but I can tell when I send a billion texts and never get them back. Might be a big part of why I'm so depressed.
To the people who read this...just disregard. I suck. This isn't helping, but I can help but think at least getting it out resembles drawing poison from a wound. Some day I'll figure out what the fuck is going on with my head.