I can’t say the last few weeks have been fun, nor can I say the last couple of weeks have made me happy. I am happiest when I’m not at home or work, as work is bringing me down lately and frankly me staying at home consists of me living in my room (to be expected at my age, I guess).
I continue thinking that the next day will be better, and that things will change but I have come to realise who cares? Who cares what I do, or say. I make myself feel worse, by telling other people how I feel but know that I am then upsetting or annoying the few people I can call ‘friends’ by doing this!
I therefore keep my thoughts to myself, which realistically isn’t a good thing. I build this anger up, and am fueled so much by this anger, that I am worried one day it will leave me and be vented on someone or thing that really shouldn’t deserve it. I also know that I must live on, to fulfill my dream, and destiny. I don’t want your sympathy, and I certainly don’t want any pity.
Thinking so deeply about this, leads me to thinking about such things as suicide (as one does, some of the feelings I have felt I can’t fathom to describe) but also leads me to think about why you would want to waste something, you’ll only ever have one chance to use, if you get what I’m saying. Ending one’s life is not the answer. Maybe I’m being too dramatic.
Alcohol does not help depression, apart from causing me to feel tired it doesn’t do a lot. I prefer water if you ask me. Some people choose to waste their life by taking drugs (which upsets me) so I choose not to ‘hang around with them’. I smoke, so what. Compared with drugs and alcohol all in all it’s not that bad.
I could go on, but to be honest I hate complaining (oh, the irony). Live strong! Bare with me!
“Stand up for what you believe in and you can make a difference. Never back down, Never give up, and Never give in!”