The Depression Diaries, n°59 - WANTED

Well, how you doing? Cool. I'm the way I've always been (between psychotic and depressed) Oh, why am I writing in english? Cause I'm fucking tired of having to translate my thoughts. When I'm seeing my doctors and we start talking about my shitty life, it feels like there's a timer just in front of my head counting how many time I'm wasting by being a bored dipshit with a fucked up brain that gave me a personality disorder. I guess that's what pisses me off the most when I think about going to these appointments; logically I understand that my rage comes from the undeniable fact that they're telling me all the stuff I need to hear, but it is still painful and gets under my skin like fire, burning up every other emotion. But hold on, the worst is yet to come. I'm technically pretty fucking useless and still don't have a single fucking clue of what I'd like to do with my life. So, who'd like to be my friend right? I don't have nothing but Korean music to talk about. Pretty sure I'm human version of watching paint dry. Don't get me wrong, I love all of my friends whom for an unusual cause still consider me their friend. I just feel like I belong less and less in other people's lives like I'm an old version of a program that doesn't run at all in a new upgraded software. I can't avoid wanting and wanting attention and surprises and to feel wanted and loved and not for a second to doubt this, even if my disorder is screaming the contrary in my head. I know I'm not my disorder, but in the end I kinda am. How do I ask somebody to deal with my feelings being  50x more intense than what other normal people experience? I can imagine in seconds at least 20 different scenarios of you abandoning me. I know it's not always real, but it's not something I can control. But I wanted to be wanted, so bad. I still do, I guess. I've made up my mind a certain time ago that I won't get in romantic relationships, but I still have my friends. I still could have more friends. It's easier for me when I want to disappear; sometimes everything is too much and the world doesn't need to see me breaking down. It's always been hard for me to to people in, mostly because of the 20 meters layers of  thick concrete that I used to build a fortress around me since I was a kid. People don't like walls, it's hard work that you don't even know if it will pay off. So, here I am, FBI's most unwanted. I'm always checking up how you're doing and I know that I never apologized for being a piece of shit 3 years ago, because as you may have noticed by now I'm always with my head sticked far up my egocentric ass. I hope you know that none of what I said back then was true. It was just depression eating me up for breakfast, lunch and dinner. As long as you're all okay, I'm okay. No need to hurry, to worry; I'm not going anywhere for now. This is not my home, however all of you treated me very well, and I'm always thankful. Sorry if I end up never fitting in; I never belonged here anyway. All of my best memories come from this special place of special people, my own secret magic garden inside my fortress.

"Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else." Richard Siken