Fuck the world.

So I just found out my brother has cancer. My brother, who has never done anything wrong in his life, has cancer. My brother is a great friend. My brother is always there for people when they need him. My brother would help ANYONE. My brother is one of the best guys in the world. He has never experienced true love. He has cancer. I should be the one with cancer. I smoked pot for years and drank like a fish. I hurt people and there were times when I was not a good friend. He doesn't deserve this. I fucking hate cancer.

Depression

I think I finally know what it means to be depressed. I feel guilty because I used to judge people who claimed to be depressed. I judged them for being down all the time and thought they should just snap out of it. Now I know what they're going through.

I never understood what people meant by "going through the motions," "watching your life from the outside," and "feeling detached." Now I understand.

I can't do the simplest things without feeling like it is a huge effort. My laundry has been all over my floor for weeks. It took me a week to do my dishes, and now that they're clean and in the dishwasher, I can't fathom taking them out and putting the new dirty ones in. Every time I'm somewhere, I just want to be laying on the floor. I sit disconnected from reality, and I feel like I don't understand what life is. I don't see the worth in anything anymore. Anything anyone says makes me angry. Happiness makes me angry. I feel like I'm watching myself go through the motions of living and not really even remembering what is going on. I don't remember what I've been doing these past few weeks. I gave up alcohol over four months ago, and I feel like that was my medication.

I am no longer self medicating. My therapist, who is all about holistic healing through power over the mind and changing ways of thinking, suggested that I get on medication for a little while because my brain chemistry is fucked up. Well, that's not quoting him exactly.

I don't feel like doing anything anymore. When I'm at home I want to be somewhere else. When I'm somewhere else I want to be somewhere different. Life has lost it's beauty. Sure, there are fleeting moments of happiness, but I think it's superficial. I think I've trained myself to laugh and be joyous around other people. I feel like I'm on the verge of tears several times a day, but I don't even know why. Everything makes me sad. I don't feel any strong emotions besides anger, hatred, and confusion. I watch myself as if through blurred lenses, as if time is ticking away in a worthless existence. I can't cry when I want to. I can't feel happy when I try to. Even when I try to convince myself to be happy, it seems like too much of an effort. I worry about everything and I have anxiety for no reason.

This is what it feels like to be depressed. I'm hopeful though, because I am getting medicine on Wednesday. I just want to be myself again, but I'm not sure who that is anymore.