Freeform angst. You don't want it, don't read it.

[swordianmaster]

Sometimes I wonder if it's -just- the depression. I have so much that's fucked up with me, I don't know where to start.

Am I wrong for not having a job yet? Am I wrong for not whoring myself out to every business with a 'Now Hiring' sign? I don't even know why I pass them up.. part of me says it's because of a conditioned thought that I'm too good for a lot of those shitty jobs, another part says it's because of a completely different conditioned thought that tells me I'm pretty much doomed to fuck up everything I undertake so completely and totally... That second thought is part of what's made my relationship with DeAnna so rocky, part of why I'm so closed in... I feel like if someone gets too close, things explode.

I have a lot of things like that in my mind. A lot of thoughts that I can't shake, things that have been hammered in so fully that I seriously can't find a way so far to pull them out of there. They aren't even interlinked... it's like two factions of a war, except they're fighting over exactly how and why I suck so much. I can see it all happening - one side says I'm a worthless sack of flesh because I fuck up so much, because I'm such a failure. The other side says it's because I'm a hypocrite, because I complain about my problems when, in reality, I can think of at least five people immediately who have things worse off than I do.

I know people are going to read this, too, and go "OH BRIAN U NEED HELPZORS" and all I can say is absofuckinglutely not. I've dealt with a fair share of psychiatrists, therapists, and psychologists in my life so far, and none of them helped me. Every time one of them got close to helping me, they'd get sick of me, or scared of something about me, and give me some bullshit reason like "I'm being a crutch" or "There's nothing wrong with you". The ones that don't do that, well, they throw drugs at me. Useless, pointless drugs. None of them have really helped me, and in order for any of them to help me, I'd have to be doped up like a vegetable in a mental ward. Is that what I really want? I... seriously don't think so.

Dammit. I just want to hide. To get away from reality. I can't get away. I can't run. Why the fuck can't I run? Other people have things they can do to calm them down, hobbies, interests... Everything I'm interested in either doesn't help these feelings in the slightest, or just pushes them back into my mind. Just -living- is bottling, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do to stop myself from just exploding regularly. I can't think, I can't breathe... I mean, fuck. EVERYTHING is pissing me off today, and it's been going on for the past three days... how the fuck am I supposed to stop it? I just want to punch a hole in the wall, see how bloody I can get my hand, or something... I want to vent all of my rage into a single punch, but then I punch something and it's obvious that I'm a fucking ninety-eight pound weakling and I can barely make a pillow move with my fucking pathetic upper body strength.

I have no idea why I'm rambling like this. It isn't helping. I seriously don't know what I'm supposed to do. I just can't really stop rambling, because if I stop, then I'll have to deal with my problems. The problems that are waiting oh so patiently down the hall in my mind, telling me that I don't have a choice but to get brutalized the instant I start actually thinking again instead of just reacting. It doesn't really help that part of me wants to blame DeAnna for why I'm so upset about not having a job - I have yet to break her of her smoking habit, despite her being more pregnant than she should be while still smoking, and she seems to get sick EVERY FUCKING WEEK. I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Even if I get a job, my money's going to all go to medical bills, cigarettes, and baby shit.

Now I am just seriously saying way too damn much, so I'm going to hit post before I push my foot further into my mouth.