I knew it wasn't real-

Throughout this whole depression ordeal, the hardest thing was to ask for help. I simply...didn't. It was a huge step that I could not make.
Finally, my mom decided she needed to take me to the doctor, to do something about it. (I guess I technically didn't ASK, but going to the doctor, getting help, was on the same plane for me). We went yesterday. My mother told the doctor all the things she noticed about my mood, and I confirmed that I was indeed feeling depressed. He asked me when the last time I smoked dope was, the last time I thought about suicide, the last time I attempted it. He gave me a questionnaire to fill out.
After all that, I don't know how to explain what happened.
He basically came back with a sheet of paper. On it are websites and phone numbers and names of organizations. About 3/4 of them are for either alcoholism or bipolar disorder or anxiety disorders. That was what I got out of the appointment.
He told me to read up on depression. And FIGURE IT OUT MYSELF.
I don't know what I was hoping for exactly. A prescription? A referral to a counselor? But no, all I got was like 2 websites and 1 phone number for depression organizations?
He also recommended VITAMINS. And SWIMMING. And that is IT.
Am I the only person who thinks that was kind of HALF ASSED on his part? I don't really see how this is supposed to fix it.
I'm supposed to cure myself. It's up to me. It's my responsibility to make myself happy. It always has, I guess. Which means it's MY FAULT that I'm depressed.
What the fuck.

I got my blood taken for testing today. Maybe I will turn out to have hypothyroidism. That would make everything SO simple.

WHAT WAS THE POINT OF FINALLY GETTING HELPP!??!

HELP ME.
I don't know what else to say. No one actually understands. I don't know why they think they do. I don't really know anyone else in my position. Everyone else is HAPPY and SHINY and LOVES THEMSELVES. Who can I ask for help? I have already asked. No one knows what to do. No one seems to try. WHAT IS THE POINT. Fuck everything. I am going to bleed. MAYBE I'LL CARVE THE WORD "LOVE". THEN IT WILL BE WITH ME NO MATTER WHO DOES OR DOESN'T LOVE ME.
Fuck you!! So few people actually KNOW what's happening with me. And the ones who do don't know what to do. So I don't tell anyone. But sometimes I just want to yell all my feelings and problems in their face. To prove them fucking wrong. To show them they don't know anything. Dare them to care. Fuck knows they don't now. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I'M A WHOLE NEW RENEE. COMPLETE WITH THE "FUCK-UP." Want to see it? All you need to do is ask.

Often, I will have a thought, and then after I think the thought, I will think, "Hey, that thought was kind of interesting, kind of important. I should post it to my livejournal." And THEN I think: "WHHY??!" Nobody reads my livejournal or cares about it at ALL. It would be like telling myself. So pointless. I guess this is what people who have no friends do. Hey, that's me!

It really sucks to realize how completely meaningless your life is. I mean, there's no point to my existence. I'm not making a difference. I have no impact. Except maybe negative. I'm just using up resources!! There's to purpose to my life. How many ways can I say it?
WHY AM I EVEN HERE.

I wish I was someone else. I used to wish it a lot. And then...I became someone else!
I became a fat, lonely, friendless, ugly waste of space. I really miss my old self. I know I used to complain about EVERYTHING then too, though. Will I EVER be satisfied?

I just really....can't see the point of anything I'm doing. Why am I working? Why Pizza Hut? Why did I apply to university? What am I going to do with that?

I honestly and truly do not understand how people can be content with themselves. I mean, I loathe myself. But how does anyone actually LIKE themselves? I just...don't know what that's like. People really enjoy the way they are? The way they behave, look, think? I can't imagine.

I feel like I'm actually past the point of being suicidal. I can't even care enough whether I live or die. I don't want to try because I think I will probably fail.

Why does Kat Dennings get to be Kat Dennings? Why can't I be Kat Dennings? Or someone else who is beautiful and has a nice body and lots of friends. No one even reads my blog. HAHAHA. I'm so stupid. When Kat Dennings has a blog it's cool but when I have one it's stupid.
My life is sooooo dumb. What do I do on my night off of work? NOTHING. Cause nobody wants to hang out with me. Durrr....
WHAT IS THE POINT?? OF ANYTHING?!
Life must be so easy when you're famous.
I hate you Kat Dennings.

I have too much makeup. And I never wear it. How pointless. It does not make me happy. Whyyyy do I buy it.

It feels like I'm dying again. People know, they DEFINITELY know, because I'm telling them. But nothing is happening. It still hurts. They know but they can't do anything. I'm not sure if they're trying or not. How can I tell?
Saying "You're okay" does not make me okay. Why should I believe you? I know what I feel.
Everything feels....heavy. Repetitive...but shouldn't I have expected that? It feels like...it isn't me. Like I'm asleep. Or I should be asleep. I know I wish I were. All the time. I cry every single day, at least once, usually for no apparent reason. I don't know....what's going on anymore...
I don't do anything. I mean...I don't play the piano. Or the guitar. I don't go for walks. I don't go out with my friends (if they still think of me that way). I don't even go to the library to rent movies. I just lie down. And...do nothing. Sometimes watch whatever shit is on TV. Just to drown something out.
I sort of want to start cutting again. I want a lot of things! I still want. I just don't have the energy to acquire. I never have energy. I am ALWAYS TIRED. Always, every day. I don't even feel like moving. I don't have the energy to lose weight.
I think being at this weight is a major factor in this depression. But you know what the stupid part is? I can't muster the...energy, motivation, hope to do anything. I can't move to exercise. I can't concentrate to diet. I don't even have the strength to become anorexic.

nothing is ever going to happen with me. Ever again. I just can't do anything to make anything happen. I can't MOVE. I can only lie down and feel. And cry and cry and cry.

I think I have dysthymia.

Formal sucked -- and it was my own fault. I should have known. I don't like dancing or loud music. Or standing on the wall like a loser while people whisper about me. And then I had to go have a fight with Russ. That was particularly stupid of me. I guess it just upset me further that so many people were having fun and I wasn't. I guess it just upset me that all the couples were being so coupley, especially Brianna and Caleb, when Russ and I couldn't really look each other in the eye. And I wish things would have gotten better at the after-party. It was okay for a while. I got drunk pretty fast, and felt pretty good. Then I had to go to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that I thought I looked unbelievably ugly. That just sent me into a whirlpool of sadness and no one could fix it. I know I was drunk, and I should have just forgot about it right away, but being sad is such a familiar state for me that I just felt so soberly solemn. And I said things I shouldn't have. What a waste of a night.

There's just too much...too many feelings, too much homework, too much stress. And not enough people close to my heart.

1. I want to drink more water.

2. I want to lose a few pounds. Maybe by this weekend!

3. I want to have a good time at formal. It seems like something I'm going to have to try for.

4. I want new jeans. And a new bra.

5. I want white eyeliner and bubblegum pink lipstick.

6. I want to smile more.

7. I want to criticize less. And be less sarcastic.

8. I want to do well in school this LAST semester. But I can't seem to try.

9. I want to get a job!! I am so poor.

10. I want to be someone that people want to be around.

11. I want to be closer to my friends. There has been a lot of drifting...

12. I want to stop wanting things I don't need.

Owl City ftw.

I wish my dog understood English so that when I said "I love you" to him, he didn't just walk away.

I think I'll send that in to Postsecret.

GAH.

The internet is so boring. My life is so boring. I need to find something to do on those nights where Russ is working. I need a job. I need to change my hair, get a new piercing, get a tattoo. I need to buy new clothes. I need to clean everything I own.

I think maybe I don't want to die anymore. It's good. I had been wanting to stop wanting to die. =D
I love minty tingling lube.


by the way  I'M  BORED.

Life is too fucking complicated and I don't want to be in it anymore.

I'm dead serious.

Don't forget, all you are is a slutty piece of ass!

Nothing is worth it anyway, Katie.
The bad will always outweigh the good. You can't run away from the horrors. Are you prepared to deal with the fact that you're an evil whore? All the good that comes to you is undeserved. You're a dirty whore so kill yourself before you hurt someone.
Kill yourself before someone gets hurt, you dirty fucking slut.
It's never going to get better. Just spend your days crying and taking your clothes off. It won't fix things.
Sell off your body and lower yourself to your true worth. You don't deserve your dignity.
People don't like you, they just like to use you.
You're a worthless whore and don't you forget it.

Sometimes I just want to be a slut. SO BADLY.
I wish I had an alternate life. I want to keep this one.
But I also want to be a SLUT.
 

I wish I had huuuuge beautiful eyes. That were huge.Like...Anna's!!!

I used to love to draw people in to me.
I want them to love me, I want them all to love me. Who doesn't want that?
I'd do whatever they want. I'd be sweet, I'd be a slut, I'd be sad. I'd be what they want.
But I think I may stop this now.
I've realized that it doesn't actually work. And that no one cares anyway.
Because they don't care. They are in turn only pretending.
But I really do care.
I should stop wondering if people approve of what I listen to, if they think I'm sexy, or kind, or smart, or a good singer.
Only maybe I don't approve anymore, or think I am these things. Because that would be directly related.
I won't stop caring if people think I'm beautiful, though. Even if no one thinks this, I'll pretend they do.
I should stop trying so hard, because no one cares anyway. I won't talk unless I'm spoken to. I'll stop telling people anything about my self, my past. I'll shut down. They don't want to know, I've discovered. And I don't want them to know. I want them to wonder.
 

I had my first dream about suicide. Well, that I remember.
I was in a hospital, that in a way was more like a ... civic center or something. It was a hospital, but more friendly looking.
I knew a number of the people hanging around. A locker room, I think it was. How steretypical, a rumor was buzzing around. A rumor that someone had tried to kill themself. As I heard people talking about it, I knew the person in the rumor was me. I panicked slightly and went in search of a help desk. I found one and the lady at it seemed very nice. I began to cry and I begged her to hospitalize me, to get me a bed to stay in. I thought I would be safer and happier in a hospital, with people taking care of me. [I have thought that for a very long time.] She very enthusiastically agreed, reassuring me that they would get me a bed and take care of me.
She led me through the hospital, a labyrinth in itself, so polished, with circular elevators. But when we got to the room, there was already someone occupying it. I don't remember much more...but I think maybe I was deposited into a bed designed for cats.

Huh.

I hate hate fucking HATE the way people can just drift apart. Like there's nothing left between them, there's nothing left to say.
We never even got all the way to being friends. Russ said we were friends but I KNEW that we never got there. We've never hung out.
I have this habit of being able to get really close to people...over MSN. But in person? Nope, I fucking freeze. How cowardly, right?
Back when we talked nonstop about anything we wanted, I loved it. I felt like, man, I finally have a friend. And we told eachother our secrets. And it touched me so deeply, and all I wanted to do was to help, and be there. I loved talking like that, it was something to look forward to.
And then something happened, and it was all gone. I don't know...why.
We don't say anything anymore. Nothing but "Hey" and "What's up".
I want so badly to just dive right back in to confessing everything and anything, but I know how WEIRD that would seem.
The awkward responses would hurt so much.
Who do I tell that I cried myself to sleep last night?