I feel like if I tell someone what I really spend my time thinking about, there would be repercussions that I wouldn’t be able to control. I’m not sure what but I’m pretty sure that number one, no one but my therapist would talk to me, two, I would only make my family cry, and three, all others would be too weirded out to continue to talk to me. All normal people find me so fucking depressing to be around that they rather just not see me because my thoughts are such fucking downer they rather I not be around them at all so they don’t have that awkward moment of Jesus Christ Sarah, can’t you just give it a fucking great with the never ending flow of depressing lava that flows from your brain?
I don’t have much going on upstairs that isn’t pretty fucking depressing. I’m not even sure I can get myself to write down what I am actually thinking for fear that I might have to admit to myself that I’m just a lazy asshole that doesn’t want to do anything. I just sit around feeling bad for myself and don’t do a fucking thing about it. I have every opportunity in the world to make my life worth something and all I do is find excuses to not do something because it would mean having to move from a warm spot. I’ll make up excuses and even lie to people to not have to do something that takes time and responsibility. I’m just going to let them down anyway, why should I bother saying that I’m going to do something in the first place if I’m not going to do it. I think I do it because I want to do something useful but I’m just to afraid of people seeing how truly incompetent I am. How lazy is that? I hide behind an illness so I don’t have to do anything.
I’m also afraid that if I were to tell my therapist or my psychiatrist they would just tell me to suck it up and stop being so fucking lazy.
I’m so lucky to beagle to sit around and feel bad for myself. If I were anyone else I would be in a fucking homeless shelter feeling bad for myself but I’m lucky enough to be sitting in a warm bed writing this and yet, I do nothing about it. Literally nothing. Nothing at all. I’m nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing.
See why I’m afraid to show this to anyone? it would just be another disappointment to look at. Another fucking disappointment from Sarah. Why do people even get their hopes up with me? You know what, they probably don’t! Wouldn’t that be hilarious, I’m here assuming that people want to see me, want to see me succeed and really, they don’t even think of me at all. I’m not saying or thinking this is a menacing way but in a I’m just a fading memory of that depressing girl… Now I’m gone from their thoughts too, to bad I can’t forget about myself. It’s so much easier if I am sleeping be causes then I don’t even have to think of me. That would he awesome, I wouldn’t even have to be bothered by my insignificance.
I think my dogs are disappointed in me even. They just watch me sit there and do nothing at all, sit the and not even take them for a walk or out back.
My headaches have been so bad that I can’t even do anything normal anymore.
I have no idea why Jamie is with me, he could do so much better. He could he with someone who could take care of him and even be good in bed.
I really hope that I get to see Kristin today, I just hope that I can keep these feelings of insignificance inside so she will want to see me again. If that’s even possible in the first place.
How is it that when I see my therapist I can look at my depression objectively but when I’m just lying here wasting space I can’t move a fucking inch?