I know I've been depressed lately for some reason that I just can't put my finger on, and like I said in a previous post, all I needed was somebody to notice I've been depressed and to ask me why to let the words flow. Actually yeah, I'm depressed, but just like being fat, and being ugly, broke, socially inept, I'll deal with it. Depression is a part of my life right now. Sure it's wrapping it's self around my heart, killing any hope that I've ever had at true happiness. I'm distracting myself constantly from the pain, but sometimes it's just there. When I'm sitting infront of a computer, mindlessly doing my job thinking of other things, I'm vulnerable. So when somebody comes up to me and tells me I've been sounding depressed on the phone, I almost tell them why, part of me wants to just let go and tell them that I'm constantly sad for no good reason, and I'm not sure why, but I know I need help. But I don't, instead I put on a big fake smile and tell them, "oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I've been sounding depressed, I must have been tired." And then I go right back on the phones and put a little extra effort into sounding happy, and pretending to care about customers, but I don't feel any better.

It seems that lately I've been waking every day in a state of panic. I go to bed somewhat peaceful, or at least too exhausted to stay awake for another second, and I wake up in near panic over issues that aren't quite clear. Could I be having nightmares that I don't remember? That would be a nice tidy explanation. I don't think it is though, I think I'm neglecting my bills etc. In pursuit of earthly pleasures. I know I shouldn't feel THAT bad about it, but something deep inside of me resists wasting life. It almost seems taboo to waste life, but sometimes it feels so good to do nothing. Then I wake up in a panic. The conclusion here is: I need psychiatric help. I need to talk to somebody, maybe be put on some pills, but something needs to be done. Waking up every morning in a panic, random thoughts of death, an undying loneliness that consumes me should I dare to let my mind wander. This is not normal. Or maybe it is, and the reason I feel that it's not normal is because I so desperately want to feel unique. This goes back to my last post where I ranted a little on the fact that I will never be rich, famous, smart, beautiful, or anything but a minor cog in a big, ugly corporate machine. I guess all I can do is sigh, and suck it up.

Do you ever get the feeling that something bad might happen? I've had that feeling for a while, and since I talked to the grandparents yesterday, I'm kinda nervous about them going to Europe right now. But it's more than just nervousness, it's a subtle sense of dread that I've been feeling since I've gotten this job. Now it seems to come to a head, I talked to them and I had an overwhelming feeling that this might be the last time. I probably shouldn't have written that, it makes me seem just a little more crazy than I really am. But in an effort to be completely honest with myself and all those who read this, it will stay in.

This is a postcard from Post Secret. I had no idea that this is what my secret un-defined longing has been. I never even knew it was a secret, but I always thought that there was more out there for me. And maybe the panic/depression that I've been feeling for the past couple of months is not from fear of death, but from fear of living without purpose. Maybe my mind couldn't grasp the fact that I probably won't be rich or famous, or beautiful. I've had no trouble realizing it, but I've never quite accepted it. THIS IS WHY I'M DEPRESSED!!! And now I can start to deal with it.

On anther random note: I watch way, WAY too much E! I think I'm the only person that I know that could have picked out Harrison Ford at the Emmys and tell you why he was there. I really need to pursue more manly hobbies.

So after all that whining about spending my birthday alone, I ended up having a great time. Four days of having fun, and it wasn't all drinking, well a lot of it was. So just a little description of exactly what I did then how I feel:

So Friday I wake up not sure on what to do with my weekend, but I see my cousin online and I decide to drive to Springfield and go to the fair with her and her bf. It was a lot of fun and a lot of walking. But I saw the OCC bike that the Oregon Lottery is giving away. And I ate a Bavarian Cream, funnel cake. This is the world's perfect food. It was amazing and perfect in every possible way. Fried dough topped with a scoop of Bavarian Cream, topped with whipped cream, then powdered sugar and chocolate syrup. A heart attack on a plate. Ironically I had a Diet Pepsi with that, lol. And I wasted plenty of money on midway games winning almost nothing. But Sue and DJ are always fun to hang out with.

The next day was spent just hanging out at my uncle's staring at the walls willing time to pass. But after Carly got off, things got fun. We stopped at the liquor store just because I've never been in one. I ended up with a bottle of Jose, and one of Seagram's. So I start nipping at the Seagrams around 6, and get a small buzz going. And before I start to list what I remember, you have to realize that this is all on an empty stomach. The only thing I had eaten in the past 24 hours was some eggs and toast around 9 that morning. So right before we leave, I impress my uncle by downing half of that pint of Jose in one shot. Then Dave, Carly, Nina and me go out bar hopping. We start out at some sports bar that my uncle heard good things about. And order a round of Long Island iced teas. Then comes a shot of Jeggermister (sp?) then something pink, something called a Camakazi, a shot of Gin, a shot of Jack, a Corona with lime. And I'm sure I missed something there. Then comes my first ever strip bar, I forget what the name of it was, but a long island iced tea and a beer later, I'm getting a lap dance from some random girl. Eventually we end up at The Silver Dollar in Eugene. This is where everything gets fuzzy then black, I remember hearing last call, and I remember somebody handing me a t-shirt. Then the next day I wake up yelling about how drinking should be illegal. That it's philsophically wrong to get THAT intoxicated. And then we spend an amazing weekend on the coast, having WAY too much fun. All boring kind of family stuff. Except for a trip to Moby Dick's, a rough local bar in Newport. That was a lot of fun, just had a drink there and watched the drunk locals singing Karaoke. My uncle wouldn't let me get up there and sing Disturbed, ha ha.

Now looking back on this weekend, I realize that I had a lot of fun. Just an amazing time where nothing really went wrong. But it still did not completely distract me from the inevitable. I spent more money than I should have, and now all I feel is guilt, with an extreme reluctance to go back to my old routine. I just don't want to be here today (work). What I learned, life sucks, no matter how much you distract yourself by having fun, going back to the real world sucks.

So facing another birthday alone, and this one my 21st life seems a little bleak. This is my last chance to be a kid and first chance to be an adult. But to me it represents so much more. All you're life you're always too young to do things. But after 21, there's nothing that you're excluded from because of mere age. That means that as far as the world is concerned I'm a real person. What it also means is there's really nothing more to grow older for. The only thing left to look forward to is death, and that is just too depressing to think about. So I face a birthday alone in my apartment in front of my computer with a bottle of cheap taquilla listing my woes for all the world to see. The thing is, the world doesn't really care. Nobody really cares, with the exception of Opal (my friend from Job Corps) and Jenn (we all know about Jenn.) But both these people are so far away, they don't know what I've become, an obesse, depressed mockery of the old me, with none of the fire and desire that made people like me. The personality to replace looks. Now I really am nothing. I just want to go home and crawl into a hole, but it seems like I feel that way more and more. That nothing seems to be worth doing. So here's to 21 alone, and eternity to wallow.

So they move my desk again. This is the fourth time since I've been here. They told me change my attitude, so I did. Now they cast me off. This is like in school when the teacher says get into groups and you ask if you can work alone just because you don't want the humiliation of looking around with the lost look on your face, begging somebody to take sympathy, inches from tears but you just can't let them see that. So you work alone, and you fail Spanish three time because you're forced to learn from books when everybody else gets to endlessly repeat Spanish. The same in Algerbra where you stare at the book longing to understand, begging God or who ever to just help you understand, while all around you people work in groups on problems that they all understand just because they work together so that they can have the moment where a concept that has been eluding them for so long clicks into place. The difference between them and you, they have that instant gratification that comes when people say good job, oh now I get it, or simply DUH! Instead when you have that moment of understanding, you're sitting at a desk alone pretending not to care about anybody but secret longing to be part of the group, absently staring at a book your eyes unfocused, when suddenly a stray thought catches another stray thought and they mix in harmony, though they are quickly forgotten in a haze of embarrassment from having hoped that somebody might care. It's the same as taking choir as an easy C, but getting into it because for the first time you feel bigger than yourself, to spend hours after school trying to train your voice to control your falsetto, and finally that elusive g note that's between your regular voice and falsetto, that is so crucial to a song. You don't know why you care, but all you know is somebody is there to say that you're doing good, and is telling you how to improve instead of telling you that you're wrong. For the same reason you skipped Prom to spend the night in your room alone with a bag and a video game. Because you care when you don't want to, because the boundless rejections of past life besiege you as you rest. This is why moving to the corner feels like every single time they teacher told you to get into groups, and every time you ever had hope that some girl who talks to you actually might be your ticket away from virgin hell. It's not that you're weird it's that you feel rejection so much harder than the rest of the world that you cling to every bit of hope that is sent to you. When you finally feel part of the "cool" group that you've been longing for since forever, they kick you out. And when you realize that they have a problem with you change instantly in the hope of it all being better again, when it isn't, you want to close your eyes and screem, let all the rage and depression take physical form, but you don't and you keep your mouth shut again, until one day it was all explode at the first person that asks you "how's life" and actually means it. But for now you type away in a blog that nobody reads, two posts in a day and a copy edit, and hope that somebody out there truly gives a fuck.

Oh blessed bi-polar tendencies, without you depression would seem endless and happiness just a step towards more depression. Blessed be my ability to distract myself from the inevitable; when a stray comment from a stranger darkness comes to light and all that is bad is masked by fear of rejection.

No need for vague references to half truths, like I said a few days ago this blog is going back to the brutal honesty that gave a modest following (fine three people and family :)

So my boss asks me why I've had a bad attitude the past couple of weeks, I don't tell her the real reason: that I've been struggling with my weight, mortality and a financial troubles, so I tell her "it's Monday, what do you expect?" But something in the way she asked me (like maybe she cared) made me realize that this attitude is not getting me anywhere, that maybe my spirit has been crushed by life, but that doesn't mean that I can't pretend to be in a good mood. To quote my uncle, there's a public person and a private person. I've been letting my personal struggles affect my work. I've been letting my heart, broken not by love but by life, control how I act and feel. I need to take control and do what I have to do even if I don't feel like it.

I know I'm going to kill myself by eating fast food, but somehow I can't stop. I know that soon I'll be 400 lbs. and there will be no way out. I just can't stop it. Please God, I know you exist because you have to. If there was no God then life truly would be meaningless and futile. But I know there's more than just life. Well I don't know there there is more, but I want there to be more so I choose to believe there is more. Maybe I'm choosing Christianity because that's the major religion. I used to rebel against conformity, now, secretly that's all I want. There are other motivations, but if I could be just like everybody else, life might be a little better. Or maybe it wouldn't be. I don't know. What I do know is that work is beconing and there's nothing I can do to stop it. As much as I want to stay home and wallow in my obesity, there's no time for that. I have to go to work, if for no other reason, to support my addictions: fast food and nicotine. Yeah, I'm just plain sad.

Do you ever feel traped in your own skin, like you would want nothing more than just to blow up and throw things around, tell people what you really think and damn the consequces of it all. Just say "fuck you, you religious piece of shit, don't ask me stupid questions if you don't want stupid answers" Fuck you miss boss girl, who's ass do you really have to kiss to get ahead in this company, oh wait it's not about ass kissing it's adick sucking. And miss boss girl is an expert at that! God I am so sick of watching what I say. I'm so sick of biting my toung, I just want to scream! I don't even want to get ahead anymore, I really need a new job because day after day of this mindless bullshit is eating away at my soul