anger_frog

I got really depressed last night and went to bed early, but things just got worse. I woke up every hour from nightmares, and each one worst than the last. The anniversary is coming up soon, and all the nightmares revolved around it; it so bad that I decided that waking up at 4am and staying awake was better than whatever my subconscious had in store for me next. Then I found out Hunter S. Thompson killed himself while I was asleep.

This isn't fair; it's been almost a year and I'm still killing myself over it. I'm torturing myself over something that was beyond my control. I thought that since I was alone and friendless that I would be stronger for living like this. I was wrong though; I have been treading water at best.

Maybe I should be relieved though; the worst year of a shitty life is almost behind me, and things can only get better, yeah? Well, probably not, but comforting lies are all I got to work with at the moment. I've been using them liberally to get by, like "Things will get better when I leave here," and "People are much better in other places." Even faced with truth I cling to hope, because there's nothing else.