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When depression hits, it's like running into a wall. It takes all your strength to get back up and keep moving. The pain is simply unimaginable.
Depression isn't a matter of life or death, it's a matter of death, or recovery. Life has nothing to do with it. Enduring is one thing, living is quite another.
There's only so far you can be pushed before you fall, but on the other hand, it's sometimes too hard to free your hand that's caught in the rope, even if it's more painful hanging on than falling. Either one is just too difficult.
I'm the typical depressed insomniac, lying awake at night, sleeping during the day. No matter how early I get up, I still can't sleep when I should. There's just something about the night that's much more real than the daylight, maybe because in the dark, I have little to do, and I'm forced to face my emotions. But by about two in the morning, the pain is sure to kick in, along with the knowledge of how futile it is to struggle against typical life.
I guess the night is my reality, no matter how little I may like it.
Crimson tears. I'm not sure why exactly it's a synonym for self-injury, and yet it's come to be just that, a way to describe the bloodletting. I guess in a way the blood takes the place of our tears, tears that we cannot shed through normality. It hurts to bleed, yet it almost hurts more not to, such a paradoxical situation...
I wish it had never begun, yet I'd be entirely lost without it. Although not normal, perhaps, it has brought me a sense of comfort, and a way of survival. Blood. Calm. Interesting how the two are so interconnected...
So school started today. Forced back to the cult, same as every year. Prepared to be brainwashed, tortured, have individuality shred to pieces, and for what? To have us conform to the standards of a "regular" human being? But of course I never openly rebel, such is not my style. I just keep it inside, stuff it down, be one of them… But isn't that what we all are? Secretly holding the same contempt, yet never voicing reality, because it's unacceptable? We're all so much the same, why be clones of unattainable ideals? Human nature is such a curious thing…
Amazing how animals can lift your mood. The last few days haven't been great for me, my impatience rising, and with it, pain. I guess the horses keep me sane, I only wish I had my own, instead of two rides a week and barn privileges the rest of the time. But still, it's better than nothing. It's not just the horses either, the whole atmosphere just clears you of negativity. Things I might not normally tolerate become okay. Animals have a way of doing that... Unconditional love. It's such a wonderful experience, if only humans could learn the secret…
In the end, it really comes down to one thing: death. We're going to die sooner or later, face it. And for those without religion, well, life can sometimes be a bit my complicated than we wish... I guess it comes down to trying to forget all questions as to whether there is any point in our existence, otherwise we simply drive ourselves insane trying to fathom some comforting thought... But blocking it out of the mind is easier said than done. I guess there are some mysteries that will always remain secret, and maybe it's even better that way...
It's so easy to forget the hopelessness when you're happy, and so easy to forget the happiness when you're hopeless... Why is it that we can never quite remember what it is we desperately need? But I guess life would just be too easy if it was all sugar and sweet stuff. I suppose the line between life and desperation is thinner than we'd like to imagine, and easier to cross over. It takes such strength to return from the desperate side... Strength that so many people don't have, strength that is unimaginable unless experienced, or unless you need it...
Be yourself. How am I supposed to be myself when I have no idea who I even am anymore? It's like I've been torn apart, and left vulnerable, alone to rebuild whatever's left of me. I don't know what to say, don't know how to feel... I don't know if I'm a different person than I was before, or if I just hated what I'd become enough to change it... Or even felt so insecure in liking what I was that I felt I had to change it to something I'd hate... Someone please teach me to be myself again...
Why is it that whenever I have a bad day, someone else has one that's worse? So it always turns out that I end up comforting them... But I'm not complaining, I know how much it can hurt, it just seems that fate has conspired against me in order to put me in the most pain possible.
Pain has a funny way of snowballing. Maybe it's that when we're in pain, we're even more sensitive to other negativity... Maybe it's just nature trying to kill off the weak. I just wish I could do anything to make it be otherwise.
While I admit that September 11th was tragic, I think that people need to put it behind them. I mean, if you really look at it, how many of us did it truly affect? Sure, we're a bit more paranoid, maybe more careful, which isn't a bad thing, and okay, knowing those people died isn't exactly a peachy thought, but there's a certain point where you have to let go. People are killed everyday, sad, maybe, but reality. It's about time we accept that although what happened was tragic, dwelling on it won't change the past. Just my opinion, though.
The weather is doing a good job of mimicking my attitude today. Rainy, stormy, depressing, just as I am... Kind of strangely nice, to have the weather correspond with my reality... If only people could understand my emotions, and that unlike a storm, they don't go away, or if they do, it doesn't last. But I guess people are blind to what they want not to know.
The louder I scream, the harder I'm trying to convince myself of something, something I know in my heart must be false. But even that knowledge does not stop me from screaming...
Suffocating. That's how it feels to be depressed. You can't escape, you can't function, you lose your will and ability to fight. Eventually you drown, and yet even when you drown, you somehow remain alive... It would be easier if you didn't, so much easier.
If you've ever tried to run in water, you know what it's like to have that constant drag, so much that by the time you've made it to where you must be, you're physically and emotionally exhausted. Depression is that and worse, and usually deprives you of the sleep that might possibly allow survival... Suffocate...
Friday the thirteenth today... No wonder I've felt unlucky all day. And yet I'm not superstitious, so to blame it on that would be ludicrous. And yet it's so much easier to make excuses day after day than it is to admit defeat.
I don't quite know what triggers these feelings, and I certainly don't know how to make them go away... Writing helps, I guess, although never enough, it never makes it all better... But that's too much to expect. Perhaps it's all just typical teenager pain... And yet somehow, I simply can't convince myself that this is normal...
I guess depression's kind of like an injury. You poke at it all the time, to see if it's gone away yet... Of course, you only succeed in aggravating it further, but people always seem to forget that, and continue doing it anyway. Or maybe it's just the pain that's sadistically appealing. Pain does help emotions, though, I can't think of anyone who would choose heartbreak over a cut, or a bruise, or burn. Some of us just consciously choose it. It's really no different than people stubbing their toe, then biting their finger to take away the original problem...
When you look at adolescents' lives today, it's no wonder they turn to self-destructive behaviors. After all, pain certainly does help, be it a temporary fix, and drugs, alcohol, etc; they all produce the same affect, helping you forget your problems... Teenagers really do go through a lot, and the negative temptations just complete the circle. With all the peer pressure, they're even more likely to get involved with things they shouldn't, things that will help with that very stress... It's such a vicious cycle, I wish I'd never gotten involved... Self-injury. I hate it. And yet I love it.
So many times I've stared at the blank computer screen, wondering how I could possibly write one hundred words... By the time I get an idea, I don't have nearly enough words to express myself with. It seems all I can ever talk about is my personal pain, and yet that is such a big focus in my life right now that I simply have little else to say... Makes my writing incredibly redundant, I imagine... Although in a sadistical way, it can be amusing to hear of others' pain... I just wish I knew how to make it stop.
Watch as it all falls apart.
My broken heart...
To feel, to live.
So not to die.
I've nothing to give...
And hate the hate.
Is this fate...?
Bad poem. Very bad, actually. I know it's bad. And yet I needed the expression right now... It's much different than my normal style of writing, piling on the restrictions, and yet I need structure now... Structure to keep my sanity in place. Structure to hold me together, before I fall... I guess I'm dramatizing it. But oh, how writing can help...
Sleep during the day, whenever possible, lie awake at night... Don't we all just love insomnia?! And yet it's been going on so long that I'm pretty much used to it, accustomed to going to school exhausted, and tossing and turning for hours at night. The nighttime is my reality, it's when I see things most clearly, no masking the truth, or exaggerating what I want to believe to proportions that everyone else knows are false. No lies, just truth, horrible truth... It would be one thing if the truth were what I wanted... But I'd really rather the lies.
It sometimes seems like I subconsciously need to be in a bad mood, like if everything's going right, I have to do something to make things go wrong. I'm not quite certain why it's like that, I certainly don't enjoy being miserable, and yet I do it anyway... Maybe it's just another form of self-destruction, or maybe I'm afraid of losing my identity in finally finding happiness. I guess I don't know how to be myself anymore, for so long, bad moods have been an automatic part of me, they became me. I truly don't know what I am now...
So today was a normal, exhausting day... Losing my appetite, as sometimes happens when I'm stressed or just overly bored or fed up... And I am fed up. The majority of my teachers I dislike, and there are certainly none close to my favorite from last year... She earned my trust, and she was one of the few adults I could truly be honest with... It's kind of weird being alone again, knowing that there isn't an adult I can freely go and talk to... Even the guidance counsellor I might possibly trust is designated for the middle school only...
I'm a rather hypocritical person, I suppose... Talking online as I do, I come across many suicidal people, or self-injurers... And yet I always give them the exact opposite advice of what I'm doing. Some may take it, although I doubt many do, but all the same I know it's usually good advice... It's kind of ironic that I can get other people out of a bad mood, always be the one to put a smile on their faces, and yet make myself miserable the great majority of the time... Maybe it's in my nature, or maybe it's just me...
It's kind of weird, no matter what, I always leave these hundred words until fairly late in the evening... Even if I know what I want to talk about beforehand (which is very rare indeed!), I still can't seem to do them early...
I don't know if it's procrastination, laziness, or just a little obsessive thing... But whatever it is, one of these times it's going to get me in trouble... Chances are eventually something will come up that won't allow me time to write my words... But no matter how hard I try, I can't change this little habit.
So I'm in a rush tonight... Bad me, putting it off way too late, then getting my mom all mad because I'm late to bed... But that's my typical style... Should have done it earlier, but oh well, maybe this will motivate me for next time...
But anyway, my perfectionism was stirred up once again... Found out that my English teacher is a really hard marker... Or maybe I'm just not good enough for him. If other people can get perfect marks, makes me wonder why I can't... English has always been one of my strongest subjects... But enter self-doubt.
So I was thoroughly loaded down with work tonight... Major homework situation, and major stress level already... Thought I'd be fine to deal this year, now I'm not so sure, less than a month into school and already going insane...
I can't decide if it's worse to have boring classes, or challenging classes... I'd almost say boring is worse, has a certain stress of its own, and yet challenges indicate an entirely different stress... I guess I've just never learned how to handle it productively... Pathetic that I'm in tenth grade and the simplest things can send me into despair...
So I was at the barn today for my weekly dose of reality... The animals and people there seem to have a way of bringing sense back to things. Sure, some of them don't exactly like me, but the majority are nice enough to at least pretend they do...
I'm not sure what it is about being there, maybe the calm efficiency of it all, or just the comforting presence of the animals, but whatever it is, I really should try to get out there more often... It brings my spirits up immensely... Too bad it isn't a lasting effect.
The month is starting to go insanely fast... The days are long, and yet looking back I can't fathom where the days went... I guess it's partly school, boring classes, and then little time to myself... It's driving me nuts! I think this is the worst set of teachers I've ever had...
French/Science teacher is incredibly dry, and since I have science in French (I'm in immersion) it's worse... English teacher marks too hard... Math is too easy... Music/drama teacher is just plain weird... CLM/PAL teacher is decent I guess... But I don't know how long until I'm completely insane!
Got the day off school today, which was a nice break... A tad boring, maybe, but not as boring as class would have been... Got too much sleep, actually, which means I'll be up until way late... I should work on a short story I promised to a friend, no matter how many times I tell her she probably won't like it, she insists she will... Maybe I'm just scared that it's too personal, that she'll start to find out more than I want her to... It isn't about me, but it's about things only someone in pain could know...
I'm up entirely later than I should be tonight, so my apologies if this is a bit garbled and impossible to read... Finally watched Lord of the Rings, but didn't get most of it because my friend and I were too busy finding out that I was psychic... Long story on that one, don't want to get into it, and no, we aren't entirely insane.
So it's almost the end of the month, which has gone surprisingly quickly and exceedingly slowly at times... Interesting how it can do that... But I guess I went over that in a different entry.
So tomorrow will be a shock to the system after an extra day off... Have to stay for lunch, which will make my day even longer, although less rushed I suppose. Maybe I'll hit the library, or perhaps just walk around...
Today brought my two long-awaited season premieres on TV, the two I was most looking forward to... Both nearly brought me to tears, and yet in an odd way, it was nice to feel again... Lately I've been so numb, so unfeeling, can't cry, can't scream, just feeling a dull throbbing... A bit of grief was a welcome change.
Hard to believe I've been writing these for a whole month... Can't say I've written anything particularly profound, but at least it is forcing me to keep up with my writing, I'd been neglecting it terribly. I still haven't decided if I'll continue next month or not, but I've always been a procrastinator, so that's nothing new... I'll figure it out tomorrow... Might try it again just because it's good for me, maybe actually try writing something interesting this time instead of just my typical mumbo-jumbo. But it's definitely been a unique and enjoyable (although quite frustrating at times) experience.
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