Monday, December 3, 2018
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
another day of this bullshit
If you ever wanted a first person glimpse of depression, here's a snapshot:-things you used to love mean less than they ever did-your job sucks and yet you resign yourself to fate-you dismiss your dreams and hopes because "why bother? i'll just screw up"-you don't want to get up out of bed, and you go to bed late because you just don't care-you can't tell anyone shit because you can't be seen as a weak person or don't want the attention of "hey, that post quoting a song could be a sign of trouble, call the phone and make sure he's not dead" or "hey, everyone watch what you say, he's depressed" and no one tells you the truth, just a muted, safe version of what happens
-you wonder why this is happening and you realize that for nearly 9 years, this happens and somehow you get past it but this time you realize how bad it is. and how helpless you feel. where every inch of fight left in you has vanished and instead of living your dreams, you want nothing to do with them. all you want to be left alone, allowed the chance to plan just how much you can lie to everyone outside when they ask how you're doing.
I almost posted that on facebook. had it typed. backed down again.
I don't know if I can ever tell people how bad I am right now.
I want to but I just can't.
Fuck.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
how about not
This fucking sucks.
For about two months, technically three now, I have seen my life evaporate over and over again, with all my efforts resigned to futility. I hate my job, I hate how it's a joke, and how I'm doing basic crafts and kid's shit for a living, with a college degree and a closing escape window.
I hate how I have the best friend in the world and yet we both are starting to realize that our musicial ambitions are totally fucked because of our divergent life paths...and how once again I have no choice but to accept another fucking failure of a project that now I care so little for. I can't even tell myself to get the band together to meet to record in January because I don't fucking care about something that won't go anywhere at all and is hamstrung by the fact our singer can't have her name used in public, much less her image in most cases.
I can't stand how I have clearly outgrown my hometown and want so fucking badly to leave it behind, leave the dipshit republicans, the friends who are all going nowhere in their lives, the fact that I can't run with my dreams here because no one else wants to or is serious about it...and now instead of planning to leave next year I have to think about getting a new car so now there's that, the car, the move, the location, and the fact I am accepting I'm stuck in this shithole and I will probably die here.
I told my closest friend last night that I was sick of being a fucking failure. I was crying and trying to keep my nightmare to myself but nothing was working in that regard. I can't even register if I'm going crazy or I just dreamed too big, trusted too much, wished too hard, and essentially appropiately failed.
Photography is dead. Music is dying. I have nothing. Nothing to show except a bad job that keeps me further away from my dreams, and the sense I'm probably here for the long haul and I might as well settle because "everyone wants me to" but I don't. Not for a shit job like that.
My childhood friend I've made a point to stop speaking to. Because I realized he's toxic. As are a lot of people and I hate that but it's true.
I don't know if this is going to lead to me dead in my bedroom, hanging, or somehow getting past this nightmare and being the person I want to be, that I WANT.
I think I'm depressed. And I'm not going to tell anyone that yes, I've broken down again. Yes, I've lost my hope for everything, and I just fake my way through life because it's so much easier to do that than to worry about what everyone will think if I dare spoke exactly how I felt. It's a lot easier to not tell anyone you're fucked up and just find a way to lie and lie and lie and lie and lie and lie...
I don't give a shit anymore. If this is it, then fuck it. I'll enjoy my bitterness, my addiction, my loniness, and my inability to get anywhere because god won't let me.
For about two months, technically three now, I have seen my life evaporate over and over again, with all my efforts resigned to futility. I hate my job, I hate how it's a joke, and how I'm doing basic crafts and kid's shit for a living, with a college degree and a closing escape window.
I hate how I have the best friend in the world and yet we both are starting to realize that our musicial ambitions are totally fucked because of our divergent life paths...and how once again I have no choice but to accept another fucking failure of a project that now I care so little for. I can't even tell myself to get the band together to meet to record in January because I don't fucking care about something that won't go anywhere at all and is hamstrung by the fact our singer can't have her name used in public, much less her image in most cases.
I can't stand how I have clearly outgrown my hometown and want so fucking badly to leave it behind, leave the dipshit republicans, the friends who are all going nowhere in their lives, the fact that I can't run with my dreams here because no one else wants to or is serious about it...and now instead of planning to leave next year I have to think about getting a new car so now there's that, the car, the move, the location, and the fact I am accepting I'm stuck in this shithole and I will probably die here.
I told my closest friend last night that I was sick of being a fucking failure. I was crying and trying to keep my nightmare to myself but nothing was working in that regard. I can't even register if I'm going crazy or I just dreamed too big, trusted too much, wished too hard, and essentially appropiately failed.
Photography is dead. Music is dying. I have nothing. Nothing to show except a bad job that keeps me further away from my dreams, and the sense I'm probably here for the long haul and I might as well settle because "everyone wants me to" but I don't. Not for a shit job like that.
My childhood friend I've made a point to stop speaking to. Because I realized he's toxic. As are a lot of people and I hate that but it's true.
I don't know if this is going to lead to me dead in my bedroom, hanging, or somehow getting past this nightmare and being the person I want to be, that I WANT.
I think I'm depressed. And I'm not going to tell anyone that yes, I've broken down again. Yes, I've lost my hope for everything, and I just fake my way through life because it's so much easier to do that than to worry about what everyone will think if I dare spoke exactly how I felt. It's a lot easier to not tell anyone you're fucked up and just find a way to lie and lie and lie and lie and lie and lie...
I don't give a shit anymore. If this is it, then fuck it. I'll enjoy my bitterness, my addiction, my loniness, and my inability to get anywhere because god won't let me.
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