|I want to leave today. The sky is big and my life is small.
||[Jan. 13th, 2004|01:22 am]
|[||Your mom ain't listening to
|||||Yes - I've Seen All Good People: Your Move||]|
I'm in a mood to talk to someone about things, but there are only a number of people that I feel comfortable talking to these days and none of them are around. I'd call around to people, but I hate waking people or interupting their lives with my insignificant crap. No one is dying, I'm not going to kill myself, there's no need for me to reach out to anyone except to feed my co-dependent side.
The difference between you and I is that I can set my depression aside and live a fairly wholesome life. I don't need medication to control it, I don't use it as an excuse to be a crappy person, I don't let it control me. Every morning is a struggle to find reason to get up and go through the motions. I've been doing the same damn thing every day for the last 3 1/2 years now. Weed out the minor details, joys and sorrows. I've been stuck repeating the same day for as long as I can remember. The difference between you and I is that you have a chance to make something of yourself still. I ruined my chance. I've got to wait for several more years or for some miraculous opportunity for another chance to be somebody. Get off the pot, other people need to use the bathroom. It's hard not to hate myself for digging myself a premature grave, but at least I recognize that I did this to myself. I've had to swallow my share of pride to be able to admit that I fucked up a lot in the last 5 years to get myself where I am today. The difference between you and I is that I didn't have anyone there who could help me along the way. There wasn't anyone there for me to be able to reach out to who could've helped. Before you jump the gun, don't assume this is about a particular person. There are a legion of people this could apply to. Whether or not it applies to anyone at all is for me to know.
Futility is my biggest obstacle these days. It creeps its way into almost every aspect of my life. There's a line in Heretics Of Dune about how the most horrible thing you can do to a man is give his life a sense of purpose and meaning, then tear it away from him, about how man is as good as dead when he has no purpose and nothing he does has meaning. Strike a chord, my good man, I think we've stumbled across something. There are too many situations in my life where hope for change is futile. Even acknowledging that the situations exist is futile.
The weight on my shoulders doesn't lay any lighter than it did before this. I need to take a holiday.