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.
---
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.
---
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.