I want to write, but I can't. I don't really have writers block, I just can't feel anything worth writing about. So I decided to look back on other things I wrote and I came across a journal entry I wrote a few days before I started this thing and I remember writing it, I remember feeling those things, but I can't ever believe it got that desperate. Here's a part of it (it's pretty long):

"Even with the depression. I think I'm okay, right? I think I'm at a level where I can begin to function like a normal human being and then I go out and see how normal human beings are and I'm not that. I'm afraid. When I was younger, it was an honor if someone told me I wasn't like everybody else. Now, I'm so scared. I can't even explain it. I'm so terrified of never finding someone like me ever. That's the ultimate lonliness."

"You know, it's kind of funny. I think about me with him (Dave) and it's like watching a movie; like I'm some kind of outsider. It's not like I felt that way when we were together, it's just like I feel like such a different person since then. And I am. I can't even get out of bed anymore. I can't talk to anybody. I don't like the person living inside of my body. I don't like waking up and being this unsure of everything I used to be in control of. All the things I used to love... they've become things I'm not sure about anymore."

"I want a fresh start. I want to wake up tomorrow on the day I was born. I want to do it all over with the knowledge I have now. I don't think I can make it right now. Everytime I step out of the house, I'm scared and I'm not even sure of what I'm afraid of anymore."

"I just want a fresh start. I want to be able to walk into a room and not be known for who I am. I don't want people to worry about me. I want them to forget about me. Because I want to forget about them. I want to live the rest of my days at home with my mom in this incredibly unhealthy environment. What would be so wrong about that? Everyone says you gotta find meaning in your life, but I don't think I can do that yet. First, I gotta be able to get out of bed."

"Damnit, this Zoloft is supposed to stop me from being depressed. But it's not. I still am and I can't see myself ever crawlin out of my hole. I'm not supposed to cry. I'm not supposed to be in despair. I'm not supposed to be disgusted with myself. And I'm not supposed to cry. But everything is happening. I hate crying. That's like hitting it home. It's like I can handle the depression and the dispair and the disgust if I wasn't crying. I could deal with all that if I wasn't crying. I could pretend I was happy and make jokes about being drugged up if I wasn't crying. But I am. And now I feel pathetic. Not only am I disgusted with myself, not only do I live in dispair, but I feel absolutely pathetic. Like I'm not even strong enough to keep from crying. Fucking babies are strong enough to keep from crying, and I'm not?"

"I'm tired of this all. I'm tired of having to be drugged up just to crack a smile. Why am I that weak? Why me? I know I was strong before this. Why did I suddenly become so weak? It's like being knocked on my ass. I'm so tired of it all. I'm tired of being on my ass. I'm tired of blocking out the thousands of thoughts in my head. I'm tired of despising my life and the person inside my body. I'm tired of having no closure. I'm tired of it all."

"I was doing okay, you know? I was alright for about a week. I didn't like getting up and going to school to see THEM but I did it. Then, BAM! Suddenly, I'm so mentally weak, I can't even do that. When? And why? Can I go back and go another route? Of course I can't. All I can do is sit here and play depressing music over and over and pray my head doesn't collapse."

"Nobody understands this evil that lives inside of me. Nobody understands the constant battle going on. They all think it's a simple case of depression, but no. There's nothing simple about it. Before, it was simple. Before, I sick, they found out, and I was okay. Now, I'm sick, they find out, I'm okay for a few days and now I keep taking dramatic leaps backwards."

"Everyone tells me I've got to get over him. Do they think I like feeling this way? Do they think I like the loss of control and loss of any good feeling- hell, do they think I like the loss of everything?"

"I'm so emotionally spend these days. It's taking so much out of me just to get out of bed and most days it doesn't even seem worth it. What is there to look forward to? The other day, I woke up and I did't know if it was day or night. And the worst part was, I didn't even care. Because nothing changes anymore. My feelings don't change anymore."

"I used to think that if I had people who knew what was going on, poof, everything would be magically cured. Only now, they all know, doctors know, everyone knows, they're all scrambling around trying to find a cure, a quick fix for me and I'm still not okay. I'm pumped up on drugs just to keep me alive. Just to keep me from going into a coma, I think. I'm nervous and out of place everywhere I'm at these days. I don't think I'll ever be okay. I can't see myself ever getting out of this. I have both my parents and two professionals trying to get me out of this and no one can. Will I ever wake up happy again?"

I wrote that a little over three months ago. I want to go back to myself then and shake me and tell me to stop being stupid. Stop being so irrational. If I can jump from happy to depressed in such a short time, why didn't I EVER see myself getting out of that?

The hardest time in my young life. I think it will remain that for years to come.