1.5.2000

There are days when I think I'll die because I'm too tired to breathe. There are days when I want to crawl in my bed, curl up and just die. There are days when even breathing hurts. Then there are the other kind of moments. Days, even. Perhaps. Moments when the sun shines, when I feel like I could fly and when I know I will make it. I know I can make it.

Today I feel like I was shrinking. Like everything I was and ever have been was slowly slipping away and I can't grasp anything. Like I couldn't have anything, like everything was disappearing. Like nothing was concrete, like nothing was real, like nothing was worth it.
And I'm tired. Of course. And I'd like to slip away. I'd like to disappear instead of feeling like I was breaking to pieces. I'd like to… curl up in bed and just die. Because dying seems so comforting, so familiar. It makes me feel safe, makes me feel better. Because it'd be easier. It'd be like sleep.

I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of university, I'm tired of breathing. I'm tired of waking up, of talking, of moving. I don't want to move ever again. I don't want to be. Earlier when I was sitting in a car, on my way to buy something, all I could think of was that I couldn't move. I couldn't utter a word, I just couldn't care. Because I felt like my body wasn't there. Like nothing mattered. And it didn't matter that it didn't matter. Sometimes that happens. Or happened.
I'm so tired of thinking. I'm so tired of being angry. I'm so tired of everything.
If I could choose, I wouldn't wake up. But it's more difficult to do something about that than just be.
It doesn't matter if I don't get to uni. It makes my parents disappointed, maybe, but I'm just too tired to care. I'm too tired to consider, too tired to wonder what to do then. Too tired to do anything but be.
I'd like to cut. I like the blood. It distracts me for a second.

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One thing that I have to say about this depression thing is that until Fall '98 I was pretty much capable of functioning 'normally'. I was able to go to school, pass my classes and be in school for the eight hours I needed to be there. However, I haven't done my homework since 5th class unless it's been absolutely necessary. In Fall '98 I finally pretty much broke apart, had to drop classes and stuff. I managed to pull off the school thing till the Finals (although I never studied for them) but after I had passed them, I simply broke. There was a reason why I never went to study anything this year and that's simply because I couldn't. There was no way I could have done simple things like waking up and getting up in given time. So although I am a bit better now, it's not anything like 'normal' life, like normal people are able to live. I'm doing my best though.

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My mother thinks she sees ghosts. Yeah. She talks about how happy she was to see her mother again on Saturday. I'm a bit weirded out because of that. I have my dreams, but I don't really believe in them although I might like to.
But she sees ghosts. That's why she hasn't been that down, apparently. Because she still meets her mother. She also told us today that on Saturday when we were on our way to where my grandmother used to live, she heard someone crying. And crying a lot. So she thought that something would happen to us. Instead there was a car-accident not far away from our home, three people died. So she thinks the crying was because of that. I'm not convinced.
When I was a kid I thought it'd be wicked to see ghosts and stuff like that. Then I grew up a bit, and grasped reality a bit better (ie. things like those don't happen). She's my mother, of course. I can't actually say she's lying. She just believes what she imagines, I'd say. But of course I can't claim that something like that couldn't happen because there is no evidence either way. I'm just hoping that when I die I won't have to hang around.

Index.