Wednesday, October 16, 2013

a cosmic joke.

I have two presentations, an essay, and an exam coming up in the next two weeks and it’s important that I do well on them so that I can stay on track for at least a 2.1 honours degree. It’s important that I get at least a 2.1 honours degree. I have no idea why. What then? A job? I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I know that the rest of my course/college/age-group doesn’t know either but I feel like it’s for a different reason. Maybe for them it’s because there’s too much choice and maybe they don’t know what they’re good at. For me, right now, I don’t know what I want to do with my life because I don’t enjoy anything. I don’t see the point to anything.

That right there is a symptom of depression. Surprise, surprise. But knowing that doesn’t change anything and it doesn’t help me address the issue. I guess I’m trying to address it here. Not for your benefit but for mine. This is me thinking out loud.

It would be fairly repetitive for me to soliloquise again about how I’m not good at anything and I’m not a good person and blah blah blah. All of that is still true (at least in my mind) but what’s really crippling me lately is that nothing feels good. I don’t like anything or anyone. I especially dislike myself but what’s new there. I’m considering investing in an iPhone but what would be the point? Life would still be meaningless.

I know this all sounds very boring and self-pitying but just think how it feels. I’m bored to my teeth of feeling like this. I want to enjoy things again.

There are small victories: I’m bathing regularly and eating regularly and washing my clothes and the dishes and getting enough sleep. But I’m avoiding college work because I’m scared shitless of how stupid I am.

I get these awful bouts of depression seasonally and the only cure I know of is the Waiting Game but this is my final year of college and I need to get my shit together. I don’t have time to allow depression to dictate my life. But I don’t know what else to do. I mean, even ice-cream isn’t helping.

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

a poem by me.

I smell like shit.
I feel like shit.
I've just eaten a Mars bar.
I fucking hate Fourth Year.