Depression

So, it's 3 a.m. on a Monday morning. I have to get up in...7 hours to meet my friend Boaz for a movie. I don't know why, but I always feel like canceling on him. But I like him, he's a good friend. Maybe it's because he's such an unwittingly nice person? Maybe I'm envious of his religious happiness? Who knows.

I just showered. For the first time in about a week, I think. No, I'm not a disgusting person, thank you. I don't smell. My hair just gets oily. And when it gets THAT oily, it's time to shower. I should shower more often. But you know I'm this deep in hell when I don't brush my teeth, don't shower, and find 10 hours of sleep a minimum just to survive. Oh, add binge eating. And today, I started self-mutilation and dreamt of killing myself with cyanide pills. Yeah, I'm depressed.

It's obviously partly circumstantial. I mean, living with an insane man who can't spare $150 for my GRE is rough. "Shira, you'll have to find the means for your exam another way". Yeah, you just bought (and already broke within 2 weeks) an iPhone and a new washing machine. But asking you to help with my education? Mon dieu, you'd think I was asking for a trip to Europe for a wine tasting in France, with the way he views the silliness of my request. Okay, maybe not, but I'm pissed, because he's always broke and has no money, but *I* know where it is. And I know he could spare it for himself. But god forbid he spare it for me.

Maybe I'm being a spoiled brat? Absolutely. But I'm still annoyed.

I hate the binge-eating. I tried to start smoking cigarettes again, but that didn't work. The self-mutilation might help, but I doubt it. Honestly? Marijuana is the only thing that curbs this absolute pit of hell my brain lives in almost 24/7. I wake up in the morning dreading that I'm alive, and sometimes I think of just driving myself into the ocean. I'm miserable, I'm depressed, and I hate it. I'm grateful for the multitude of jobs and things I do - it gets me out of bed. I still need naps though, because just living is exhausting. If I didn't work, I'd never get out of bed.

I wish I could "pull it together", as my Mom states. But I can't.

I wish I didn't hate myself so much. Last week, I was out with friends and refused to have a cookie. 2 hours later, I ate 6. Today, I had to make an emergency 7-11 run for cookies. Bingeing, you have returned. Thanks.

I want to exercise. I'm just so TIRED. Where is this energy supposed to come from? I see Ron, my current therapist, on Wednesday, and I'll get a rec for a psychiatrist. I don't know if I just need a "booster", but I'm definitely gonna need some Adderall. I hate that I need it, or want it. I just want ENERGY. I want to exercise. And I know I'll be stimulated and energetic and I'll take care of myself (okay...somewhat). I don't think its a panacea, I'm not an idiot. But I'm very close to starting cocaine otherwise, just so I can get through the day with naptime. Coffee's lovely, but it also nauseates me if I have too much.

I hate being so smart. Maybe that sounds self-righteous. But I am. I know every symptom I have, I analyze every action, I hate myself. With such intensity that I reserve for dictators and genocidal assholes like Hitler. But in a panel of who should die first, I'd raise my hand. Why? Because I fail. Every day. At least he "succeeded". Sure, it wasn't *good*, but he did what he wanted to do. Jesus, am I justifying Hitler's actions in lieu of my own? I'm definitely losing it, kids. I just hate myself THAT much. Why? Because I gained 5 lbs. I ate cookies. I am OUT. OF. CONTROL. And frankly, I don't do well with that.

Today/Tomorrow (i.e. when I wake up) is Monday. Time to start anew, right? Great.