I wish I could hurry up and live the next 50 years of my life and then have it be over.
Today was a perfect waste of a perfectly good Saturday. I woke up at 11:30 this morning to gray light peeping through the blinds. I turned over and put a pillow over my head in an attempt to muffle the sights and sounds of the living. Downstairs in the basement, the tile people were hammering and drilling to renovate the bathroom. My mother's shrill voice rang through the house as she chatted on the phone, with my stepdad, with the tile people, etc. She kept opening and closing my door as a I pretended to be sound asleep, dreaming of merry things like kittens and candy.
When I made my awakened presence be known, my mom took a calmer approach and offered to help me out with food or activities or company. I didn't want any of it. The hermit Amanda had taken over like Jekyl and Hyde. I let go of trying and seeing the positive, because what good had it done me? None at all that I can think of. Here I was making phone calls and being cheerful despite feeling horrible and saying yes to activities and volunteering and babysitting and finally eating better, but it didn't pay off somehow. Why does it have to be that way?
I have to wonder why some people don't understand the let down feeling I've acquired after all these weeks. I made efforts beyond what I thought I was capable of. God it makes me so angry and sad to look back at myself, exerting so much energy and thinking in a positive way, expecting something good to evolve. It's not like this process was a few days in the making--it's been going on since I got out of the hospital, back in mid-October.
Worrying about my grades and academics and the like is trumped by this bigger cloud of depression and anxiety. If I am so depressed and I am still being faithful to the lithium, then what is the point in taking it still? I want someone to answer this question without being suspicious that I'm being dishonest about my medication. God I'm in a rut, and I can only feel that tomorrow will be the same, or progessively worse.
Why kill yourself? Life will do it for you.