The days come and go, times change yet I remain.
And so I sit here, looking at the screen watching my fingers create this message to anyone that cares to view it. I guess this post is kind of useless since it has no cause or story or plot...no rising actions climax...it has and end and a beginning. It has my thought about my growing hatred for myself these days. My depression is coming back...all I do it it here and let these waves of fear, anxiety, boredom, and anger repeat until it slowly passes. I sweat and shake my hands get clamly and I lost concetration. My mind feels like it is ready to break. In time, I'm sure it will pass, but why must it be so hard? Why must I feel like shit before I feel better? Why must I feel like I'm going through this by myself, void of the fact that my friends are here to help? Why?