Or lack of, has a really bad effect on my mood, I was so happy for once and now I feel like death, I can't handle speaking to anyone or anyone speaking to me because all I want to do is rip their fucking heads off.
I need sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep URGH.
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
What is life? or at least what is mine... I feel like I'm just floating along in a meaningless pit, I don't feel like there's a purpose to me. I want to sleep all the time, even when I wake up I'm exhausted, I could wake up and look for a job but why? am I just lazy? Why can't I get up every morning like any other person and go to work? The only enjoyment I get out of life is sleeping, getting so fucked up I feel numb, seeing my friends and watching movies.
Maybe I need someone to make me feel alive, excite me, because right now everything seems dull, and tedious, I'm getting bored but what's the point in change.. I feel like there is a black cloud hanging over my head and it gets heavier and heavier until I can barely move.
My mind is a bottomless pit that I am scared to death of, I don't want to think but I can't help myself, and whilst this is how I feel, I'm also fine with how I am, I kinda like it this way.
''In a strange way I had fallen in love with my depression. I loved it because I thought it was all I had. I thought depression was the part of my character that made me worthwhile. I thought so little of myself, felt that I had such scant offerings to give the world, that the one thing that justified my existence at all was my agony.''
I couldn't explain it better than that, I genuinely feel like I wouldn't have it any other way, after all what have I got going for me other than the fact that I'm fucked up? It feels like its the only thing I can rely on, I mean without my illness, what would I be?
And that's a fucked up way of thinking of it.
Maybe I need someone to make me feel alive, excite me, because right now everything seems dull, and tedious, I'm getting bored but what's the point in change.. I feel like there is a black cloud hanging over my head and it gets heavier and heavier until I can barely move.
My mind is a bottomless pit that I am scared to death of, I don't want to think but I can't help myself, and whilst this is how I feel, I'm also fine with how I am, I kinda like it this way.
''In a strange way I had fallen in love with my depression. I loved it because I thought it was all I had. I thought depression was the part of my character that made me worthwhile. I thought so little of myself, felt that I had such scant offerings to give the world, that the one thing that justified my existence at all was my agony.''
I couldn't explain it better than that, I genuinely feel like I wouldn't have it any other way, after all what have I got going for me other than the fact that I'm fucked up? It feels like its the only thing I can rely on, I mean without my illness, what would I be?
And that's a fucked up way of thinking of it.
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