I should be studying or doing homework or something, but instead I'm drinking and trying to think of a reason why I should stay alive until tomorrow. It's harder than you might think. How can I possibly go to class tomorrow and joke around with the boys like nothing's wrong? And it's a lab day too, how am I supposed to get through that normally? I don't think it occurred to me before, but it's so so hard to keep up the pretense of being normal. Does everyone have to work at it so much, I wonder? I don't want to anymore. I'm sick of everything. But I have to. If I fake it 'til I make it, surely I'll make it sometime. Right?
At the moment, I really couldn't care less whether I live or die, and actually, if someone came bursting in through the door telling me that I was an enemy of the state and was now to be executed for treason against the government, I would be in their black van before they even finished pronouncing the sentence. What is there to live for? For me, I mean. I realize that there's so much beauty and goodness in the world that I can't see, and in the abstract, there are infinite reasons for someone to live, but none of that touches me at all. Nothing good will ever happen to me; I'll always be an outlier. I used to have hope, or at least I was beginning to, I think, but I don't know where it went– it's all gone. How can I ever be a functional person if the second I start to heal, I just dip back into fog again? I think I really need help, but I can't even help myself. Maybe I was born to die early (but it wouldn't really be early though, would it, because it would be my time to go). But what would I have accomplished? Everyone has a purpose, don't they? Maybe I don't. That's why I shouldn't be here; I was a mistake, the only person born without a purpose. Oh no, I don't like that. It seems so horribly reductionistic– if you don't have a purpose (dare I say it, a function), you shouldn't be alive. No, I can't believe in that. There's sanctity in all human life. But what about mine, then? According to my own principles, it would be completely tragic and wrong to take my life, but I see so many more pros than cons. I'm such a hypocrite! I preach a good game, but when it comes down to it, I play out something completely different. It's reprehensible, really, and it's horrendous logic too, and, you guessed it, it makes me hate myself even more. But I don't know how to set myself straight. I'm just lost, and I don't have any idea what to do to fix things.
Tomorrow is going to suck big time, but sadly, it's not that different from any other day. Every day is a struggle for me, and I think I'm losing. Maybe I really do need to be on medication. But no, I don't want to go down that path. Surely I can do this by myself. People did in the past. Although many of them killed themselves, now that I think of it. But still. I have an appointment with the psychiatrist on Friday, I guess I'll see what she says. Honestly, I sort of hope I'm imagining this all though, like for some reason I wanted to be ~special so I invented mental problems for myself, and some professional person can tell me the right thing, and I'll snap out of it. Wouldn't that be nice? Maybe it will happen. I guess I'll find out.