They say all teenagers are depressed in some way, and I don't know why. Most don't experience real loss, real pain, real sorrow. I'm not that bad off, but I can't help but feel a lot of disgusting, eye rolling self pity. It's one of the many things I hate about myself, and it's why I haven't left the house in three weeks, because I don't deserve to see the light of day.
Many americans think drinking is a good way to curb depression. Sorry, but alcohol is a DEPRESSANT, it's not a happy pill like prozac. All drinking will do is over emphasize your depressing thoughts and your despair, it wont make you feel euphoric or proud to be alive.
Clinical depression is fairly common, but it is a relatively short period of your lifetime. It usually only lasts a couple weeks to a month. Feelings of clinical depression happen to everybody. Maybe you stopped being friends with someone, maybe your dog got sick, maybe the Patriots lost the superbowl. It's the kind of stuff you forget about in a week or two.
Severe depression lasts years or even a lifetime. For eight years, I've been sitting on my ever expanding ass waiting for my mom and dad to walk through the door. Like I said, I'm nothing more than a hopeless, self pitying, cowardly piece of caterpillar dung but don't worry, this is not one of those pompous, lavish attention on me world suicide notes, I'm content with living, as long as no one knows I exist.
My motto is: it's not loneliness if you enjoy your own obscurity. Some of the only things in my life I enjoy is watching the television, eating a mammoths amount of calories, and listening to varying genres of music.
To the zero people who will ever read this redundant, rambling blog, I apologize for not generalizing this serious topic more. I just thought it was high time I show off what a bitch crybaby I am. What a mean spirited, spoiled, pampered, monstrously overweight grandma's boy I'll always be.
The only person I've seen besides my grandma in weeks was my cousin yesterday. I also saw his dad as he picked him up. And that's how it should be. I don't want to see anybody. If I never leave this house again, it would be only too good for this planet. Though many times I've claimed to be, I'm not special. I'm not talented. I'm not god's gift to music. I'm terrible. My grandma shouldn't waste money feeding me. She's very kind to do it anyway.
I know this is never going to be read by another living soul, but I'm saying it either way: depression is really awful. I suppose I'm a depressed individual, but why? Oh boo hoo, I lost my mother eight years ago at the hands of my jerk father. Big deal. People lose their parents everyday. I just use that as an excuse to sit on my ass and lose more and more brain cells every single day.
For all my self pity, for all my selfish tendencies, for my gluttonous eating habits, it's no wonder I can't stand the sight of myself. Usually, I will narcissistically stare at my curly hair, but that's it. I despise my ugly, acne vulgaris laden face. I don't deserve all the nice things I own or the care free lifestyle of being a sluggish, pussy couch potato.
If my life was the Truman Show, people would barf, shoot their television screens, go wash out their eyes, and say "who would find a gross, arrogant, oafish gorilla sitting around complaining about movies 24/7 entertaining"? Needless to say, the unauthorized pilot on my life wouldn't get picked up for a series.
One more thing: it's far too late for me to start giving two shits about my pointless life, but the rest of you depressed folks out there, don't be. The world isn't a rotten place, you just have to discover the color of it all. No more black and white imagery. You all have things to live for, you just have to find out what suits you best.
Me, I'm going to amount to nothing, live in poverty, and hope to God nobody ever depends on me, because I'll just let them down completely. I better never try motivational speaking.
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