Yeah, I Did It

So I always write about depressing stuff, and I feel like it's getting ridiculous. I know it's getting ridiculous. No matter what I write about or whatever spin I try to put on anything, it always comes out all emo and stuff.

I'm trying to change that. I'm trying hard.

And I don't ever have anything decent to write about. All anyone wants to hear about is how I'm doing, how the cutting is coming along, how high I'm getting, how drunk I'm getting, what kinds of girls and boys I like, how many pills I've taken recently.

Answers: I'm depressed, haven't cut in a while, only got high once, haven't had alcohol in a while, I like all kinds of people, and I haven't touched anything other than an ibuprofen since Last Tuesday (the hospital day, for those who don't know).

Oh yeah, and it's really surprising to me that so many people still don't know about that. I'll fill you Behind-on-the-times Bettys in right...NOW. Or not. Because that would mean talking about depressing stuff. Ok, long story short, I took me an entire bottle of some anti-depressants--575mg, or 23x the recommended dosage (dose? dosage?)--ON PURPOSE and had to go to the emergency room. Now I'm on suicide watch and am not allowed to take any kind of medication ever for a couple months. When I sprained my ankle, I cheated and took some Motrin for the pain. One a day for a week. That's it. No more overdoses.

But anyway, I'm super excited about heading back to my apartment this weekend. As soon as I get my refund check, I'm off to get another tattoo. I desperately need it. Well, that's what I tell myself.

And for those who want to know about what I did the other day: Yes, I really did do that. No, it's not what you think. And no, I'm not going to tell you what was in the envelope (unless your name starts with a B or a J or maybe a K, or if you have two middle names)

Wesley Snipes Makes Me Think

If I didn't love you so goddamn much, I would hate you.

Helplessness. Powerlessness. That's what triggers the depression. I realized it tonight when I could barely walk my dog on my own. When I feel these two things, I get depressed. It's all I can do not to let myself slip back into that.

My ankle is [badly] sprained, and I've been put up in bed/on the couch for a couple days. I can only get up to grab an ice pack, walk the dog, feed the dog, feed myself, and sometimes shower. I've been using my rollie chair as a wheelchair so as not to put pressure on Wesley Snipes.

I felt like I couldn't do anything for her, him, another him, and finally me. It's the worst feeling in the world. I wish I could do something. I wish I could change things. Somebody saved my life. Whose life have I saved? Someone loves me enough to keep me from hurting myself. Why doesn't my love matter that much to you? Why am I not that important? Daughter, sister, lover, friend. None of these words mean anything to any of you. Speak 'friend' and I'm saved. Speak 'love' and you're still lost. I don't know what more I can give. I don't even know what more I can do for myself.

All I can do at the moment is wait. I'm staying with my brother for a while until I get stuff sorted out. Or until Wesley Snipes disappears. Whichever comes first.

Counseling Hurts

I always hate the way I feel after counseling. The sessions get me down. Instead of talking about good things or happy things, we talk about the stuff that hurts. That sucks.

I know this is normal, but I can't help but feel that counseling isn't working. I feel like I'm not accomplishing the main goal: to get better; to stop being depressed.

Current achievements:

• The cutting and suicide attempts have stopped
• I told all my Dirty Secrets (and no one went to jail)
• It's easier for me to talk about myself and my...condition
• I cry all the time
• I've been retraumatized

Things I've learned about myself:

• My depression is triggered (hard) by illness/injury
• I'm depressed because I feel powerless, whether to help myself or others
• I have Major Depressive Disorder
• I miss Tubbykins
• I've been depressed for years (it runs in the family)
• I have no real friends but one or two, and my family sucks ass (already knew the latter)
• My pitcher of Kool-Aid has overflowed
  
• I'm still traumatized by things that happened a decade ago
• I have no hope and feel worthless (which is why I want to kill meself)
• I love and forgive those I shouldn't because it's easier than acknowledging how they've hurt me
• I'm weak
  
• For the past several years, I've been punishing myself for things that people have done to me
• I'm still afraid

Lemonade is overrated.