Depression is a bitch.

No joke. It's hilarious, because I probably could have nipped it in the bud 4 years ago, and chose not to. I figured at the time that I didn't have any problems that I couldn't deal with. I was only thinking about having to move past my father's death, which wasn't even the real problem. Looking back, obviously the problems were a little deeper, considering that one of the first visits to the therapist was also the first time I ever cut myself.

So, my depression likes to manifest itself in new ways and ruin my life over and over again. As if my life was so great before. Today, I flipped out at my grandmother. I got pissed because she went in my room, and then I tried to cool off but she was still in my face so I closed the door in hers. This INFURIATED her. It started a screaming match and no one won. I got grounded to my room for a day. Oh, wait, no. I got grounded FROM my room. Total bullshit, right? I cried for way too long, but I can't say any of the things that I really need to. No one really wants to hear it anyway. I end up just saying stupid things that are so vague that they're untrue.

One of these things is that I hate my grandmother. This is untrue, but that does not mean that I do not have A LOT of problems with her. Therefore, I cannot tell her that I don't hate her to make her feel better, because that would also be untrue. She cried. I don't like making people upset, but what else am I supposed to say?

I'm pretty much nothing but a fuck-up. I really don't know what I can do to fix this because everything I do ends up wrong. I'm also extremely forgettable. My friends forget about me all the time. I tend to wonder what they would really lose should I not be in their lives. Abbie has Shawn. John has all of his other friends, and lovers. Karinda actually talks to me, and I have gotten her to divulge information she probably never would have. I think she might be as close as she ever can be to feeling like she can tell me things. I think I have helped her. But, I don't think it would HURT her to not be around anymore. I mean, it's not like she needs me or she won't have anyone to talk to because she doesn't really talk to me either. Me not being around won't undo the good I've done for her. She doesn't need me. No one does. Only a few people want me, either.

Ugh, my brain and heart work together to tear me down. My heart tells me that I deserve things, both good and bad, and then my brain reminds me that I'll never get the good things because of who and how and I am, and that the bad things are, of course, what I deserve. And no one sees how desperately broken I am; how much I need help. No one's ever tried to save me. I mention suicide or how unhappy I am, and people laugh it off. What if I did it? They'd have no right to be shocked because I'm obviously not happy. I don't want to do it out of spite, though. I don't want to do it to force them to pay attention to me, or to make them feel guilty. I will only do it because I can't stand life anymore, and it will be no one's fault, but rather my final decision. I will not fail at it either, because my family has spent too much time vilifying my mother for failing at it. To them, a suicide attempt is rashly demanding attention and pity. I won't let them think that of me. It's not fair, I wish this was easier.

I want to break out of this horrible pit of despair, but I don't see a way out. All I see is me being this way forever until the day that I can't do it anymore and commit suicide. Is this how all depressed people feel? I want so badly to believe that God exists and that He cares about me, but believing that feels like setting myself up for disappointment. I want to believe that love is real and that it could happen to me, but what proof do I have of this? I continue to fall apart on a daily basis. I need help. I'm begging for it.