Reflection

Seven years ago around this time (September), I tried to end myself. What's changed since then? I don't feel as terribly depressed. Though the existential crises can still be difficult, I'm more or less acquainted with them. I've learned that I have social anxiety. I'd get this weird feeling either during or after being around … Continue reading Reflection →

Death

Destruction. Destroying my creation. Setting it alight and watching it burn. Apathy. Morbid humor. It's funny. Solitude. Seclusion. Social isolation. Lock myself away. Another winter. I'm dying Again. My own muderer I am. Let myself burn to a crisp to rise again from the ashes And do it all again. It never ends. It's another … Continue reading Death →

Growth and Change

Isn't this enough? I made something creative. Someone is interested in it. They even have a copy. Isn't this enough? A grand presentation. Isn't this enough? I've come so far in life from several years ago. Isn't this enough? As I wrote the last sentence, I realized that perhaps it's not enough. It's not enough … Continue reading Growth and Change →

Anchors II

Today is Sylvia Plath's birthday. She killed herself at thirty. Yesterday (or a couple of days ago), I felt there was a depression lurking and that I needed to brace myself, and I was right. I'm kind of afraid because what if I'm right about possibly committing suicide one day? Even more frightening, what if … Continue reading Anchors II →

Illusions and Happiness

I've decided that I don't care if it's an illusion. I don't care if I'm popping the blue pill (It's more of a purple pill actually.). I want to be happy, and I don't want to throw my happiness away in the name of rationality. Goals, purpose, gratitude, etc.--I don't need to dwell on the … Continue reading Illusions and Happiness →

Anchors

To accept friendship, to stay and not run away, to know that people care--it makes me feel tethered, bound, anchored. It can be painful to stay, painful to have these anchors that keep me here. But here I am.

I Feel.

I wanted to feel again, and now I do. The feelings aren't always pleasant, but I'm no longer numb. I wrote this five years ago: Want to be angry, want to cry.Are these drugs controlling my mind?I try to feel but I am stopped shortBy some [f-ing] chemicals in my brain or some [sh-]--[GODD-IT] FEEL … Continue reading I Feel. →

Fall

A redefining of what I find valuable, of what I find meaningful. I am shedding my leaves.

It’s Better Right Now

I read through a notebook I used to write in five years ago. It's pretty depressing. I really feel for myself. Back then, I couldn't feel much of anything but depression and apathy, the pain of Nothing. I'm so happy now that I can feel again. I can feel joy again. I don't feel just … Continue reading It’s Better Right Now →

Obsessive

Meaning has been so important to me. It, or the lack thereof, has been what's fueled my obsession with suicide in the past. I would have thought that reading too much meaning into things would lead to a madness, a losing touch with reality. But it seems that seeing no meaning at all can do … Continue reading Obsessive →