Friday, April 29, 2011

The start of a what ended up being a 6 month relapse

I'm in so much pain right now. I'm not sick, but so depressed it hurts. I keep thinking Anna, you can stay alive to see your book through. THE BOOK IS SHIT! The title rings true, I really do hate myself and want to die. I can't take credit for the title though, I got it from reading Heavier that Heaven about Kurt Cobain, where I learned Kurt wanted to title In Utero, I hate myself and want to die.

Some people read this blog and think I'm interesting, and can write about my life honestly. In reality this blog is all I have. It saves me from the suicidal thoughts rolling around and around in my head. Right now I can't stop crying. I'm so lonely, and just wish I had the guts to end it all.

I know this post is going to be every one's least favorite, but I'm writing it for myself.

I always wanted to be a singer songwriter. Turns out I have no talent. I have no ear for music. I love to listen to it though. I was so inspired by Kurt Cobain, and then he went and killed himself. I think fuck I don't even know the real person that Kurt was, and our up bringings are nothing alike. The only thing we have in common is an addiction and depression, millions of us do have that in common with him. I just wanted to be something special and it turns out I'm just normal. Everything I hate about other people, is what I hate most about myself.

Oh god, my eye makeup is all over my face. Why doesn't lighting strike me down right now. Why are we made to suffer through this life. Why do I drive past people on the street and wonder how they can wake up each morning not needing any kind of drug to stave off the sadness. How can they be so blissfully unaware? How are they happy? Sometimes driving past a family I just burst into tears and wish I could switch brains with them.

Do I make myself so sad? How do I stop? Its so hard to get off drugs, and I did it once, it just seems so impossible now.

I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm so lost. This world is so big, and my place is so small. I'm afraid if I die with no children I won't have anything for anyone to remember me by. This scares me to no end. I'm so vain, and narcissistic that I can't even let myself die without leaving something behind for people to remember me by.

I can't stand when people think I think I'm anything like Kurt Cobain. I'm nothing like him, I'm Anna Young and I have my own issues, and problems. I don't need his.

I can't say anything more.


Midnitefyrfly said...

I hardly ever comment, but I always read.... and this is my favorite post that you have ever written. You capture the essence of depression in your words by being so candid and honest.

You are not alone and I wish I knew how to wake up and be happy too :(

Gledwood said...

Anna I found this special little box on the internet. You get it installed behind your left ear. On it are two sliders. Slider one makes you more and more high. Slider two is for use in boring waiting rooms etc. That one makes you hallucinate. Then you can be hyper and high all the time with no bad shit like wanting to punch people's lights out or wanting to jump through a window like I did when I was manic (long story).

I'm depressed as well I can't even get it together to go in a fucking shower, get to a methadone place, get to a post office which is miles away blah blah I just want to hibernate all day.

As for people remembering you I know how you feel. I used to feel that way. Now I would rather be forgotten, and my family cash in by publishing my blog when I'm gone. I don't care about anyone reading the crap I wrote, more my family making lots of money.

My blog is the only thing I have too, it's the only thing I did through all that crap over the past 5 years. Absolute crap crap crap.

Life is a load of fucking shit I know, I know.

Anonymous said...

I'm so vain, and narcissistic that I can't even let myself die without leaving something behind for people to remember me by.

no, if you die you will probably leave a dirty set of works and a few of your dads pills that you stole in the nightstand.. or maybe he can remember going through withdrawals because you stole his pills..

see there is a bright side to everything..

Anonymous said...

Life is pretty crappy and seems to be getting worse rather than better. I'm sorry that you are one of the people who is aware enough to notice how bad things are. It must be a lot easier to be oblivious to the horror - but that is not our lot. Please, don't have kids in an attempt to find meaning in life. I love mine like crazy, but now I am stuck with the incredible guilty burden of having brought more innocent souls into this horrible hellhole.