I really want a cigarette. In Bridget Jone’s Diary the main character talks about a guy who is so addicted to cigarettes that he craves a smoke, even when he is smoking. That’s me right now. I am completely out and snowed into my home/surrounded by family members.
It sucks because sometimes I feel like that’s my only release. My room opens out onto a deck and I go out there to smoke. Especially at night, it’s very calming because the neighbors aren’t out in their yards and all I can see is the night. It’s great just to get out of my room, where I spend so much time now that I don’t have a fucking life.
My parents hate that I smoke and in a way I hate it too, I mean, who wants to turn their lungs black? or stain their teeth? Its easier to smoke and say that I’ll stop when I’m better…but when is that gonna be? I can’t help myself, it’s so relaxing, lighting up makes me feel safe which I guess is really weird. Nobody likes it though and I get a lot of crap.
Sometimes I feel like the depression, it lets me see things more clearly. I feel like sometimes we cling to our lives out of fear of death. We say things are tolerable or that they’re going to get better just to force ourselves to keep moving on and crawling through life. Depression, it lets me see that I’ve said all those things and more throughout my life but things never really get better. Life is never near what I try to make it. So when people tell me to hang on and wait/make steps to make life better…I’m like fuck you! You don’t know what I’ve gone through or how much I’ve tried.
I worry that all the medications that I’m taking will just jade me into placidly stumbling back to the daily grind, where I’ve never been happy. I don’t want to go back there. The whole situation makes me think about how my dad really hates his job, but he can’t quit because we have this big house and he needs to pay for it. We don’t really need such a big or nice house, but I feel like my dad thinks we need it to fit some uppermiddle class model of success. But the thing is we DON’T need this house, or all this stuff. What if this stuff, that should make you happy just ties you into this dreaded existance where you hate your career that takes up your life? Do I have to jade myself into thinking everything is okay and forcing myself to live because life is so precious to others….should I ignore what is good for me and live by the standards of others?