I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.
That's all I can do. I'll keep at it and hope it gets better.
So why am I depressed? That's the million-dollar question, baby, the Tootsie Roll question; not even the owl knows the answer to that one. I don't know either. All I know is the chronology.
I'm done with those; regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.
Its so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. That's above and beyond everything else, and it's not a mental complaint-it's a physical thing, like it's physically hard to open your mouth and make the words come out. They don't come out smooth and in conjunction with your brain the way normal people's words do; they come out in chunks as if from a crushed-ice dispenser; you stumble on them as they gather behind your lower lip. So you just keep quiet.
I don't know how I can be so ambitious and so lazy at the same time.
Sometimes I just think depression's one way of coping with the world. Like, some people get drunk, some people do drugs, some people get depressed. Because there's so much stuff out there that you have to do something to deal with it.
Sometimes when you open a book, time stops.
I had fooled myself into thinking that I was something important to the rest of the world.
Life can't be cured, but it can be managed.
She doesn't want to end up like me. At least I'm giving someone an example not to follow.
I wanted to tell people, "My depression is acting up today" as an excuse for not seeing them, but I never managed to pull it off.
Life's not about feeling better, it's about getting the job done.
I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?
Ski. Sled. Play basketball. Jog. Run. Run. Run. Run home. Run home and enjoy. Enjoy. Take these verbs and enjoy them. They're yours, Craig. You deserve them because you chose them. You could have left them all behind but you chose to stay here. So now live for real, Craig. Live. Live. Live. Live. Live.
That made me happy. That was my Anchor.
I'm smart but not enough--just smart enough to have problems.
And I could have died right then. And considering how things went, I really should have.
I feel dead, wasted, awful, broken and useless. It's not the kind of feeling you forget.
Do you even know who the enemy is?" "I think... it's me".
One thing I've learnt recently: how to think nothing. Here's the trick: don't have any interest in the world around you, don't have any hope for the future, and be warm.
My brain was all right back then; it didn't get stuck in ruts.
That's the number one thing I hear about humans. You have all these choices, so you're confused all the time, and you think so much that you're never happy.
The absolute worst part of being depressed is the food. A person's relationship with food is one of their most important relationships. I don't think your relationship with your parents is that important. Some people never know their parents. I don't think your relationship with your friends are important. But your relationship with air-that's key. You can't break up with air. You're kind of stuck together. Only slightly less crucial is water. And then food. You can't be dropping food to hang with someone else. You need to strike up an agreement with it.
People are screwed up in this world. I'd rather be with someone screwed up and open about it than somebody perfect and ready to explode.
