As some of you might have noticed (by some I mean everyone who is friends with me on Facebook...which equates to one, maybe two of you), I have stopped typing up elaborate comments on various articles. Not that any of you really care (or have even noticed).
I've been trying to keep my mouth shut and fingers from the keyboard as much as possible. Sure, sometimes I'll still like a(n) comment/article, maybe I'll type a short sentence, or write something if it's someone's birthday. It's not like I want to come off as a complete douche (not that anyone would really notice that either).
So, why would I go from typing up comments and trying to entertain my friends to not wanting to type up anything at all (on Facebook at least...I hardly use Twitter, and special rules apply to this blog...you're all here at your own risk)?
To put it simply: I've become disgusted with myself. Yeah, yeah...I know what some of you are thinking. "How is this different from how you usually feel about yourself? Is this supposed to be news?" Well, no, this wasn't meant to be some kind of revelation. It's a bit weird to explain, but my self-loathing just managed to reach a new depth, that's all. I guess I just got beyond disgusted by my own comments that were becoming increasingly depressing...to me. And if I, as someone who is always already mildly depressed, manage to make myself even more depressed, then how are the people on my friends list going to feel? Granted, I've been known to say that I would rather have everyone hate me, but if you don't already hate me, then, I'm sorry to say, I don't have the energy to go out of my way to make you hate me. I need that energy to keep myself from curling up in the fetal position and sobbing hysterically every five seconds. Just kidding...maybe...not really. (Okay, it's not that bad...today at least.)
Anyways, I just didn't like what I was typing up anymore. Besides, hardly anyone was reading them (I don't know this for sure, but let's just say it's an educated guess), and even if someone was, what is he/she gonna say? "OMG, you need to talk to a professional about this" or "You should end your life ASAP"? Even if someone wanted to help, he/she couldn't.
And no, none of you needs to be concerned about me. If nothing has happened to me in the past 28 years, nothing will happen now either. I still have to finish working on my MA and then pay off my student loans... Oh, and there's always my precious ball of fluff (no, not that "fluff")...that is currently living with my parents and the rest of the Fluff Brigade. *sad*
I guess things could be worse: It could still be Monday. For some reason (depression, obviously), I could not stop myself from crying. Writing about my feelings *sob*, talking to one of the Japanese teachers *sob*, watching American Dad *sob* (that last one isn't true, but I did cry a looooot). Actually, Sunday and Tuesday weren't that pleasant either, but Monday was bad.
Maybe reading all of those articles and processing them in my comments wasn't the wisest choice... Especially since many of them just made me feel like a complete failure, which I am, but I shouldn't necessarily be subjecting myself to constant confirmations of said fact from outside sources. I'm also guessing that another contributing factor was the last phone call with my parents (which took place on Sunday...last Sunday). Even though I'm usually slightly less depressed, if not neutral, after talking to my parents, somehow this last conversation just completely irked me. I don't need rainbows blown up my ass every single time I talk to them, or anyone else for that matter, but something was...off. More than likely, I was already so depressed at that point that everything my parents said just sounded more negative and critical. I guess I'll find out when I talk to them later (it's already Sunday for me).
Of course, I'm still not completely out of the woods yet. There are several other factors contributing to my current blue mood, so it probably won't go away for a while. I won't mention all of them because that would probably be enough to fill a whole series of books (or provide enough material for ten Woody Allen films). Maybe I'll talk about what else is on my mind in future posts, but for now this incoherent, sad little update will have to do.
Will I return to typing up lengthy comments on Facebook? I don't know. I probably shouldn't. Most of my friends seem to be too busy enjoying life (or Candy Crush) to be bothered with my rants, so I might be better off saving my thoughts for here.
Oh well...since it's way past my bedtime and I still haven't been able to organize my thoughts properly, I should stop here and try and get some sleep. By the way, if you see me, just please refrain from asking me how I'm doing. At least for the time being. Just assume that I'm doing okay because that's all I'm going to tell you anyways. It's the one thing I'll lie about. Don't want to, but I also don't want to risk talking about how depressed I actually am. At least in person. The blog is different. That way I can cry without having anyone look at me. So, it would be really great if you could just keep the conversation light for now.
Oh, and thanks for listening (well, reading)! Maybe next time I can write about something funny and lighthearted, like sex. What can I say? I have a weird sense of humor...
