Where Did I Go?

I miss the person that I used to be. Or the person that I thought I used to be. I retrospect, I don't know if I ever knew myself in the first place, if I was just lying to myself the entire time, hiding me from myself. I miss feeling things. I have literally become numb inside. It seems to be slowly eating away at me, devouring any crumbs left behind of emotions. I see old things that I did, remember old things that I had, think to myself, where did they all go? I know these things didn't define me, but there were things that used to come with me being myself that have dissolved away with time. I'm just waiting to return to who I was once, the person I despised. Now all I want is to be that person again.

It's Almost Over!!!

Oh. My. God. Thank you. This show has been destroying me, inside and out. I enjoy the itself, and the being onstage part, but the time it takes to do this, to perfect it, it's all too much. I haven't done my homework all week, because I've been in rehearsal until 9 all week. What do I do when I get home, you ask? I eat (maybe) then go to sleep. Who the flub has time to do five classes worth of homework, when the get home at almost 10 at night? No one. Tonight will be the last rehearsal for this show, and tomorrow is opening night. Saturday, as a result of an altercation I got into on Monday, I have Saturday detention, then I can go home for a few hours and then come back to school. The administrator that assigned me to the detention should go to hell. I despise him. He has no consideration, and the problem wasn't even that big of a deal. We were arguing. Wow, such a big deal, that I need Saturday detention. Now, when I go home Friday night, I have no choice but to go straight to bed so that I can be back at school at 9. I hate that man. We have a show Sunday, too. Then we have matinees Tuesday through Thursday. No school on Friday, but we still have to come in at 5 for the call. My life and time is so strained right now, thank God this is almost over...

Nobody Should Be Alone

Everyone that I try to tell about the way that I'm feel (which I am not going to openly state on this blog), they try to tell me what's wrong with me. Finding out what's wrong with me isn't the problem. I already know what's wrong. I just need help dealing with it. The people in this world have absolutely no consideration. I mean, who asked to have depression? Some people have it because the burdens they once carried have become too heavy for them to lift anymore, and so now, they just sit there, staring at them all spilling out of the bag on the floor, wondering when they will ever be able to pick them back up again. Then there are the people who are born with it. Either way, nobody asked to go through this struggle, especially not alone. Nobody should have to go through this alone. Everyday, dragging yourself out of bed, floating through life on auto pilot, trying to make sense of the things going on around you, while you remain engrossed in your thoughts. Who the hell asked for this? No one. But who is asking for help, screaming from the inside out for someone to come and make them feel like a human being again? All of us.

Pleading

Would you please stand still long enough to show you care?
Could you please shut up long enough for me to find my voice?
Could you please listen hard enough to decipher the anger from the hurt?
Can you please close your eyes and try to feel the pain?
Can you please care enough to extract these suicidal thoughts from my mind?
Would you please understand me enough to taste my tears?
Could you please be fast enough to stop the blood?
Can you please feel enough to stop me from hurting me?

I. Don't. Want. To. Die.

Stand still, shut up, listen hard, close your eyes, care enough, please understand me, be fast enough to stop me. I. Don't. Want. To. Die.

Lyrics...

These lyrics make me wonder, sometimes... I mean will it?

I'm So Tired

Everything has been a huge blur for me, lately. I'm scared that my grades have gone down, even though (most of them) are fine. I'm passing. That's not the problem. The problem is, I feel like, any second, I'm going to drop. Dead. I'm going to drop from exhaustion. I'm going to drop from the weight on my shoulders, and once I fall, it's going to crush the air out of me, until there is nothing left. I've had better days, and, obviously, today isn't one of them. I've gotten to the point where I only feel one of two things: either really down and sad and depressed, or I just feel empty inside. I don't know why. I've been meaning to get therapy, but I still haven't. The only thing I have that is close to therapy is music, but I haven't even had time to listen to it. I try, but every time I do, I am reminded of something else that I have to do that is, supposedly, more important than finding a cure to this Plague spreading through my body. One day, it's going to eat the rest of my soul, and leave me both dead and alive; a walking corpse.

Smudged Ink

And so now I fall back into my bottomless pit of depression. I wrote out my life, but someone spilled coffee on it, and now I can't remember who I was. These wet, stained pages are all I have left of me, and Logic sits in my mind, frustrated with me for being so stupid, for pouring out all my feelings from my pen, leaving them exposed and vulnerable. The people around me only make it worse; they all seem to float effortlessly through the crisp air, while I watch from below the surface, shackled to the confines of my own murky waters.

In Between

I feel like I've been floating through life, lately, living in my mind. I feel like I'm floating on that in between, like when you're not exactly asleep, not exactly awake. Like I'm barely existing, just there, lingering in the background of someone else's life. I have become a ghost, except I don't have any of the cool perks that a real ghost would have, like walking through walls, and I'm not really dead. I just feel like I am. I feel like I'm not seen, not heard, not alive. If I am, I'm barely living. Just another person, lingering here on this planet for a little longer, wondering when I'm going to die, if anyone will notice.