Me, Myself, and I am a little Crazy…

What’s there to say when you are mute…? When you are depressed and feel like there is no reason to go on? When you have come to your wits end and the muscles in your face you used to use to smile have retired because there is no work for them to do anymore.

Let me back up for a second…

Is this the part where I say my name…? Oh well. It’s not coming out. Let’s just say I’m fucked up. My life is fucked up. My world is fucked up. Everything is just… well you get the point. Everything is a mess.

Let me start out by saying I know no one is going to read this but I’d rather type than talk. It’s what I do. So if I type out everything that is going on… it may help me process. So… let’s start…

My brother is a drug dealer. I think. He tells me he does drugs. He started making bracelets to go to a club and give out for when he sells stuff. I really am hoping it’s not but what can I say, you are who you hang with *cough cough* his drug dealing best friend. I’m sorry. Ex-drug dealer. I’m all about 2nd chances and shit but he needs to clean up before they move in together. My brother does a lot of drugs apparently. so much so that he got his friend to pee in a cup for him. I don’t think snitching is bad if you’re doing it to save your brothers life from jail…right? I told my parents. They are kicking him out of the house…well shit… that went well.

I dropped out of school one week in. It sucks too because I finally thought things were looking up and then BAM! fucking depression. Welp. It made me suicidal. So I had to drop out before I started skipping classes. Now I have too much alone time. Alone time = suicidal thoughts time. Didn’t think that one through.

I got a job. The place my brother worked at where he met all his druggy friends. Fuck yeah. Get to take his place and look like the boring Jesus freak goody two shoes pathetic piece of shit. (If you haven’t guessed by now I hate myself)

Trying to find a new counselor. Mom thinks talking will help… EVERY TIME I GET DEPRESSED I GO MUTE… YOU REALLY THINK TALKING WILL HELP… HMMM… fuck that.

I am a Jesus person. I plan to be a missionary. But when you fall so far down the fucking rabbit hole of depression/bipolar/anorexia/anxiety/suicidal thoughts…you just become an angry piece of cursing shit. It fucking sucks.

I’m just getting angry so I think I’ll leave it here for tonight. Peace kid