Vulgar_Wheat

If I look back, I guess it’s understandable why I am what I am. It’s always struck me as weird that during the height of it, when all the ** was flying, I was fine. It’s only after that that I became sad, when things finally began to cool down. Just one day, I realized I thought nothing of myself. And then on, it was like that every day. Occasional bright spots, but… Nothing really reached me. I realized one day what I was doing, and I tried to get help.

And here I am, today. I’ve been in therapy for years now [since even before I was depressed]. I’ve had two psychiatrists, and I hate them both. Both of them have made me feel worse. I’m afraid to say anything to my parents about this. I’m being destructive. I frighten myself at times, now.

I’ve been inwards for a long time, I guess due to necessity. Now that all the pressure is gone and I can actually, I dunno, be normal again, I’ve come to realize I’m not good at being a good friend, and it happens that my closest friend… really needs a good friend right now. And I’m afraid that I’m not doing everything I can.

I know what it’s like to be in her shoes, and I know what it’s like to not have anyone to lean on. I’m trying.

For a long time, I didn’t care about what other people thought of me. Then I started to grow up, and then I cared, or at least I think I did, but I pretended that I didn’t. Then I kept growing, and kept doing things and messing up, but instead of getting up I retreated farther and farther, always smiling, but never really all the way. Everything has rotted. It has gotten to the point where I don’t really know anything about anything at all.

And I guess I’m just too tired and beat up to keep going this way. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. I don’t trust myself at all, but I think I want others to trust me, except I don’t, since I don’t either. I don’t know how to get out. I guess I can try.