The World of Failure
Hello all, and welcome to the world of failure. I am the prime resident here, so I recommend that you jump on the next plane, train, or flying monkey and make your way the fuck out of here–because I’m failing, miserable, and possibly contagious.
This morning I texted a few of the members from my old group therapy. Last night was rough, and so was the night before that. I’ve been doing a lot of lying around, staring at the walls, sleeping, and pathetic cuddling with the stuffed pink pig I keep next to my bed. It hasn’t been too great. I’ve been getting advice from Caitlin, but I’m worried that she is beginning to think I’m annoying and whiny. Which may or may not be a figment of my imagination. But either way, I’m trying to reach out to other people so she doesn’t become annoyed if she’s not already.
Let me explain. See, I’ve been on a down-ward spiral ever since I decided to make more friends–particularly guy friends. That lead to me screwing with my fantastic relationship with my boyfriend, and deciding to make it an open relationship. After that I met a few guys who had a hit-an-run mentality (even if they didn’t hit) which lowered my self-esteem even more. Then my new hobby of running vanished because someone found a body on the trail I run on, making finding a new route to run pretty impossible, because I hate running on the track. And lastly, I’ve been trying to buckle down after I saw the grades of a few exams, but so far I’m still an epic failure.
So, ta-da! My depression is about to take me down like a sniper, and all I’ve got is zip to defend myself. I can’t believe I may have to drop a class. I can’t believe I might change my major. I can’t believe after feeling on top of the world for almost a year, I’m back in the bottom of the barrel. It’s rough, I tell you. This whole life thing is getting rough. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to Christmas break, where I’ll go back to having lots of friends, seeing my boyfriend all the time, and feeling like I am actually worth a damn.
I miss that girl I used to be. The one who was confident, care-free, knew herself and knew who was worth keeping in her life. I feel like she is nothing but an old photograph now…like a dream that almost came true.
Sorry to be so depressing; believe me, I wish I wasn’t. But this is a depression/shit-happens/life-of-a-young-fuck-up blog, so I guess we both should have seen this coming.