Almost a Month?

Since I last posted but that's okay - who the fuck reads it anyway?

Living in California is difficult. This morning I literally woke up and cried. My depression has become incredibly...alive again, and likes to hang out. It makes me think things I don't want to. I wake up hoping to not wake up again, and these thoughts are not those I like. I'm not suicidal, at the heart, but goddamit, some days its tempting to drive my car into the guardrail and call it a day. Not happening, no worries, but its still worrisome.

I hate having to take care of 467, my Dad's house. "Shira, call the DSL people, take care of this, do that". I know, boundaries. I have to set them. I just don't know how. Because doing things for others is a nice thing to do, and he does let me live there...even though my room is currently rented out, so I was sleeping on an old mattress that put me in back pain for days, but does that matter?

Why do I feel this sense of debt to him, after all he's done to me? God, the motherfucking asshole. He wonders why I'm depressed and then tells me all about how his life sucks. He wants to spend the High Holidays with me. I made plans to spend time with him.

"Looks like you're spending more time with Mommy"
"Daddy, I'm trying my best to be with both of you, but remember, I did grow up at that synagogue"
"I guess I shouldn't have tried to lure you to be with me for Rosh Hashannah"

Um, what? Lure me? I'm more than happy, in fact, I think it would be cool to be his services, as they do the second day in a park in LA, which I think is unique and nice. I can't do anything right.

He complains about the things I have in the kitchen, and then wonders why I avoid living in the house.

I left today, and said "If all else fails Daddy, see you Sunday at Nashuva", and he just looked sad and depressed and lonely. However, if he only realized how inhospitable he is, maybe I wouldn't be so uncomfortable in my own house. We've all tried to get through to him, therapists, my Mom, etc.., but there's no point anymore.

I feel like there's no point to anything. I'm retaking the GRE, whatever. I'll apply to grad school, probably get rejected. I don't know why I'm alive. And I'm highly depressed. I know this is a mix of:

• Flux. I have so little stability. Especially in living situation
• Depression rearing its head
• Hormones. Say hello, Flo.
• Weight. Unacceptable failure.

And that's that. Time to put a smile on my face and teach children.