Why am I awake at one in the morning?

I'm tired. I'm in my parents' spare room. I can't sleep in my old bedroom anymore because my mom has it filled with crap.

And she says *I* have a problem with too much stuff.

Pfft.

~

I got too much life...running through my veins. Going to waste.

~

Do you ever wonder if you're missing a chapter out of the handbook of life?

I feel like that all the time.

Stumbling around, doing things, trying things, struggling and struggling and struggling.

I feel alone a lot of the time. It's okay, mostly. I have good friends, good family.

But I really feel it at the end of the day, when I peel off my socks and get into bed alone.

And lay in the dark and press my ears into the pillow.

I feel alone.

I feel like I'm standing in the desolate wasteland of life.

~

I'm touching on bad depression.

I have been for months.

It gets so bad sometimes, I don't even write here.

It just turns inward and feeds on itself and then I do nothing but walk.

Walk and cry and walk and cry.

I don't know why.

I don't know why despair grips my throat so hard sometimes.

It'll be nothing, too.

I'll be watching TV, or riding the bus, or doing some art, when all of a sudden my heart will do a flip-flop, my throat will constrict, and letter a thousand feet tall will stampede across my brain:

WHAT'S THE POINT OF THIS ALL. WE'RE ALL DUST IN THE END. THE ONLY PURPOSE TO LIFE IS TO PERPETUATE LIFE.

WE ARE A DISEASE.

I AM A DISEASE.

I should just break the cycle.

~

I'm not too bad right now.

But I worry that I've touched a depth of depression that will require professional help to get out of.

I am working next week, though.

That always helps pull me out of depression.

Hopefully it's strong enough and hopefully I am not weak.

.

~Rosie.

Before&After