I never thought I'd be the kid to freak out about the SAT, but when my father cancelled it temporarily because he didn't know I needed a ride (having no license), I started hyperventilating and dry heaving for the first time since the fateful incident last year.

But in this case, at least my dad is home. Junior year has been…entirely stressful. But in a new, senseful way, that gives me the feeling of purpose. AP homework this, volunteer work that, hard math this, SAT/ACT that. And being in the process of getting my driver's license, just so I can start my first lackluster jobs of many, dealing wtih people I don't want to, working long hours I don't want, in all craziness.

As of last year, I'm trying desperately to cling onto the memories of my childhood, that magical time of innocence and freedom and no responsibilities or worries. Before puberty, when looking attractive, sexual feelings, and depression never entered my clean, prepubescent mind. I almost think that this strong desire for such youthful reminiscing irritated some friends. Its as if my immaturity isn't "adult-like" enough for them, as if it's just another flaw into my irresponsible, clingy-figure.

But why not? I don't mind watching cartoons, new and old, like Adventure Time vs. Pokemon. I don't mind playing old GBA video games, or reading the manga I enjoyed so much in elementary school. I don't mind baking sloppily slapped together box-cupcakes and putting pink frosting on it. Or going to "babyish" and "lame" amusement parks with simple rides that mystified every cell of my being when I was a child (every time I passed by an amusement park, I got shivers as a child. We never once stopped to visit one.)

I turn 17 soon-right after the worries of Valentine's Day and right before the AP English test. Right before the worries of junior prom, TAKS tests, and job hunting. I really only have one year left to act like a little kid, before all those impulses get brushed aside by the business of the real world

Another impulse I've taken up in the past year is smoking. I got wired to the idea of nicotine, and started taking a secret solace into smoking each day. After a stressful cold turkey week, I've at least abandoned the habit save for that special day, once or twice a month.

I think it's quite good, whenever I feel my depression oozing back into my life, this semester, I hope a few drags will make it scamper off. But I've been doing pretty good since January. It's odd, that I've almost forgotten I have depression in the first place. My mind is just completely neutral, ignoring the blankets of depression, pushing them aside in the corner, and only worrying about the "now" and the "future." Whatever I'm doing, it seems to be working.

During the first semester of junior year, however, my depression crawled under my skin and invaded my mind. I've realized I'm a hypochondriac, desperately hugging onto the nearest label of a disease. Whether it was in my mind or not, I experience intense episodes throughout the year. I lost my feeling of worth (something that has struggled to find me since before puberty), feeling of living. I did have some suicidal episodes that I battled off, with the feeling that A) There is no point in living this biological, monotonous life, ignorant of the universe and the harm we do as humans, and B) That no one wanted me either, and all I really did was cause troubles in the life span of others business.

It especially grew worse in the last few weeks of December, as winter break brought me solitude within my own mind. At points of last year, I gave up. Being lonely as I was, I lost purpose.

But I realize that depression is almost narcissistic. We brew in our own thoughts and our own loneliness or failures, and forget those around us. We sometimes slap away their offers of peace. What's the biological point of having depression? It's almost like a flaw, the downfall to complex mental capability, the downfall of thinking.

I think I've lost my train of thought.

Happy weekend, everybody.

Note to self: Write about recent BD