That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as
long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end.
Some friends don't understand this. They don't understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you're wonderful just the way you are. They don't understand that I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would.
I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I’ve had it. I am so tired. I am twenty and I am already exhausted.
I feel like a defective model, like I came off the assembly line flat-out fucked and my parents should have taken me back for repairs before the warranty ran out.
Homesickness is just a state of mind for me. I'm always missing someone or someplace or something, i'm always trying to get back to some imaginary somewhere. My life has been one long longing.
Insanity is knowing that what you're doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can't stop it.
Sometimes I wish I could walk around with a HANDLE WITH CARE sign stuck to my forehead.