I Don't Even Have Any Dreams Anymore
I hate my life.
I don't even have friends anymore. A friend isn't just someone you hang out with. Or someone you have fun with. Or even someone you can laugh with all the time. No, a friend has to be more than that. A friend is someone who loves you when you deserve it the least, because that is when you need it the most. I have none of those.
I don't even see a purpose anymore. Everyone gets depressed sometimes, and that's when people do stupid things. I'm no different. But anytime dumb thoughts pass through my head like how great suicide would be (I know, I know, "permanent solution to temporary problem," blah blah blah), I make a little deal with myself. I say that if I go two weeks and still want to do it, fine. But that means, two weeks where for the whole two weeks I wanted it. It can't just be that I happen to be depressed on the first and last days of the time period. If I have even one moment where life is worthwhile, the deal is off.
Anyway, it's been a few days now. That's pretty long for me.
Counting the days left.
Current Mood:
depressedCurrent Music: Bent - Matchbox20