Well... Today is just down right depressing. And it hasn't even begun yet.
I feel horrible today. I have a bad stomach ache and I just realized once again how I'm wasting my life.
My birthday is next month... I'll be 18. I hate birthdays now. They're nothing but a reminder of how older im getting and how I'm still doing nothing with my life. I'm still a drop out loser, I never leave the house, and I still cannot do simple things like most people can. I guess you can say I woke up like this. Yes, I literally wake up with these horrible thoughts everyday... That's why I sleep a lot of my days away. When I sleep, I think of nothing. Although there are occasional nightmares about the reality I live in. While my sister cries and sobs about not doing something with her life and wanting to go to college, I sit there and I don't cry... I just think about i'm not doing a thing with my life, and I don't care. People wonder why I've stopped caring. They ask how can someone so young give up on life? I just did. I knew I was going to give up after I dropped out.
I'm pathetic. While I rarely set foot outside, my mother and sister go out on weekends to have fun. Well, not recently. My sister is still recovering... But I know when she's better she'll resume her normal life. Everyday I lie in bed all day doing nothing. Even on the dreaded weekends, I sit there alone in the dark, literally the dark. When they leave, I turn off all the lights and I sit there surrounded by its peaceful atmosphere. I usually take a bunch of sleeping medicine and go to sleep. It helps to be tired. The only thing you think about is going to sleep, not the crushing reality of being a useless living thing that sleeps their life away.
I just don't care. About anything. Life, happiness, love, success, whatever i'm supposed to care about so greatly. While I may think about those things, I know they're impossible to do. Yeah I do lock myself in my room blasting loud music while crying hysterically, but no one can hear me... Or know I've been crying. I don't like to talk to them. Why would I do something completely idiotic like cry my eyes out in front of them? If I talk to them, all I ever do is piss them off. There's no one to talk to. No one to listen. So I cry. Cry the hardest I possibly can. Maybe zone out to forget about reality. Then the moment they knock on my door, I dry my tears, blow my nose, and answer nonchalantly. Sure they ask why my door is locked, and why are my eyes red looking, but I lie. Sometimes I lie so blatantly it irritates them.
I'm sorry I lie. I can't tell you I feel like dying, or I feel like you should have aborted me, or how much of a failing, useless, mentally unstable, socially retarded thing I am.
Everything is my fault anyway. That's all they ever say. So why say anything to them? I'd rather lie to them if they're going to tell me every time it's my fault and I choose this and that. Maybe it is my fault. Yet, I can no longer trust my family anymore. I can't trust anyone anymore. So instead of thinking of the stuff I just mentioned, I just day dream away... Hoping I can forget everything, even myself. Escaping reality is horrible, but I don't care. Sometimes I wish I could stay in my dreams, but I know eventually I'll come back to this world. Thinking these thoughts over and over again.
So I force myself to stay imaginative often.
