The October Breakdown--one of many

So much has been wasted on me to get better, for me to start loving life again or at least stop hating it for what and how it is. Sometimes I even wonder if my dad even realizes that he might be spending his money for nothing. If help was on the way about a year ago I guess it might have been fast enough, I wasn't in so deep. But now, I'm falling worst than ever, so fast that everything around me hits me like its just one big blur. Sometimes I think of it like a disease, one where you can actually get better for a while and then when something happens that fucks it all up again then you're screwed. That's how depression is for me, because there was actually a point when I thought I was getting better but that was just a few moments away from it hitting me so hard and in a way so subtle I hardly even noticed.
Sometimes I think that the reason my childhood was pretty much a blur, because much of it is something I didn't want to remember, maybe because some of it could make me worst. All I know is what I actually do remember and that just makes me relieve that parts of it are blurry”I wouldn't have to spend more time thinking about it then, although wondering whether there's more pain lurking inside my head scares me too.
The first day school open since the break I was a complete mess, I couldn't care less about my hair, my face, swollen eyes”I didn't care if I was included in a conversation my friends are having of whether I was involved or not. I didn't care who broke up with who or who's crying or why. I have become so selfish and self involved that I couldn't care less about anyone else because I felt that my problem comes before anything. I sit in every class either trying to tilt my head back to stop my tears or trying to pull my hair to the front and cry by myself. Or sometimes when I feel that I have to focus I would go to the bathroom and snort some Ritalin just to keep me focused so I can concentrate. I was mumbling my way through my oral presentation and I was wiping tears from my eyes with the sleeves of my uniform. I covered my face so no one can see my red eyes from all the crying. I would get frustrated when I couldn't bring myself to cry or when I can actually cry”let it out and then something would make it go back in I would stop crying after only a few seconds of release. Its like the world is mocking me, they're teasing my emotion, it's like teasing a dog with a bone you make them want it and pull it up further and watch it jump around begging for it. I was hiding in the school bathroom, on my knees begging God or whoever to just let me cry. I know I was making everyone worried, the good part in me is so concerned with making everyone worried but the evilness in me is so much stronger. I just wanted to be alone because I thought that if I were then maybe I wouldn't feel embarrassed about my tears of ashamed about being depressed for so many days in a row. I was scared everyone will soon get so sick of seeing me cry all the time, and then one day when I fall harder they would just ignore my sorrows thinking that it's just an ordinary day and looking at me thinking of my cries as a call for attention. Finally on the second day of school after several private crying sessions that lasts less than a minute. I finally started to break even more in my last class. After school I had to go to the lounge just so I can be away from these familiar faces, my friends went with me. Just when I lost all hopes in crying out loud, just when I thought tears can no longer come by”I broke down and hard. All I wanted to do was end my life right there and I disregarded everything my friends were saying to me. I ignored it completely and I convinced myself that I was right all along which at this point I am still convinced. I have nothing to live for absolutely nothing. If I was a decent student who gets straight A's or if I was good at a particular subject then maybe I can convince myself that I have something worth living for. I couldn't come up with any reason, not even one. All I know is that I am wasting my dad's money on therapy and medication. That I'm hurting my parents' feelings for being this way that I am too selfish to actually be a decent friend or any of the friends I have who I treasure so much. I wasn't paying attention to them at all and I know that all I have brought them lately are problems. I am convinced that I am losing them slowly and that no matter how much they reassure me that would never leave”in the depth of their heart they must know to a certain level that they will get sick of this. And it would make perfect sense to me because who would want to have anything to do with me when all I do is bring problems to them. Every time I call them, I can't even have one decent conversation I either have to end up crying or I have to end up having this big crisis. It's always something and it always starts with me. I'm the burden everyone has to put up with. Maybe I want to end my life so much because I don't want to wait until the day they finally leave me, maybe I want to leave them first just so I don't have to watch as they walk away.
I have everything I could ever wish for and maybe more than I ever thought I was going to get”so much more. I know that I should be happy for what I have I know I should be grateful for getting what I have been hoping for, something I have waited for, for so many years. Its not that I'm not happy but just that I'm so consumed with many other emotions the happiness in me won't come out. I know most of the people going through what I am going through now, for some reason they still function and they still laugh and smile. Maybe they're not in as deep as I am, maybe they are at the same place I was last year, the time when happiness is still easy to fake. When my name can come up in every ridiculous thing that happens, a time when they can talk to me not having to worry that I am going to kill myself with every phone call I make. But that's the past; that was when my friends didn't have to label me as suicidal, back when I could just add a few comments and I would make them laugh. When I don't have to watch my friends cry because they feel sorry for me.
I have the love of my life right where I always wanted him. I don't know if it's just the green monster in me that is making me so scared of losing him. Sometimes I hate myself so much for being this way because I hate to see him cry, I hate to see him worried about me”I hate to see him worried about someone who's not even trying to get better. I hate what I am doing to him; I hate what I'm doing to us. I want him to know how much I love him, and I want him to know how much I care. But everything I am doing is going to make him regret the decision of being with me. More than anything I want to tell him everything, I want to tell him so badly about how much time I have spent in my life crying wishing I'd die. I want to tell him about the times my mother hit me until I bled only to watch me screamed at the top of my lungs begging her to stop. I want to tell him about the times my dad introduced me to his girlfriend when he was still married to my mom. I want to tell him about the weekends I have spent sharing my father with another woman and many others after that. I want to tell him about the times my grandmother hits me until I bruised and denied it to my father's face. I want to tell him about the times I go out to lunch with my cousins and they make fun of me for coming from a divorced family, without any regard of my feelings. I want to tell him about how I have to sit there and listen to my parents bitch about each other to me, trying to get me to hate the other one. I want to tell him how much I hate my childhood. I hate everything I am putting him through and God I wish I could fake my happiness for him, I wish I can smile all day long just so he doesn't have to be worried. If only I have that magic cure that can get me through this, I hate those looks he has when I do something stupid, I hate the feeling of disappointing him over and over again. I hate my self for going to my friends for advice when I'm falling knowing that I would never listen to those problems. I hate that I am so self involved thinking that my problem is some crisis, I hate that I am too selfish to think about how others around me feels. I hate the person I am becoming. I hate myself for every time I yell at my mom and the times I bitch about my parents behind their back. I hate myself for hating my parents for messing me up this badly.
I look at these people around me, I look at them smile giggle, and I think to myself "how the fuck do they manage to do that? What kills me more than anything is the fact that I can't even pretend. Life is so meaningless and full of nothingness. SHIT. Writing this is even frustrating. I'm waiting for a dark shadow to suck the life right out of me, I can't do this anymore. I'm waiting for a day when I can stop my wish list and I wonder when that will be, maybe sometime when I'm better”that is if I get better. How can I get better when everything around me is making me sick to my stomach? I'm a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, I am so pathetic into thinking I can pour out my feelings in pieces of papers, I thought that I was stronger, I thought that I am better than this. I thought that if I keep on pretending I might get better faster, that I might just get through. For some reason I feel like my depression is so strong that by the time I am on the verge of recovery it should be something huge and significant. I feel like I'm making my way back up slowly but recovery seems so insignificant its so small that I feel I want to climb back down until it could hit me harder and maybe I will feel like I earned it. Yesterday I fell so low that I knew if I was feeling that way when I'm alone I would surely grab my trusty cutter and slit my wrist open. I was falling apart and I knew it. At that point I couldn't care less about losing anything all I wanted to do was die, let go, let it all go. I didn't feel like I had anything to hold on to”absolutely nothing. I don't know if that is just me at the lowest of my low or if it's the medication or even if I can fall back down harder.