Vinyl Resonance

Thank you all for the responses to my last text post.  It’s really heartening to remember that you’re not alone in things.

As I get older, my depression doesn’t get any easier to understand.

When I was in highschool, I didn’t know I was depressed, but it was easier.  I was sad, angry, confused, the whole nine yards.  But I was a teenager and self-centred and it made sense that I was mad because the whole world seemed fucked.

Now, I don’t even realize when an episode is coming on. They come slower, quieter, and last a whole lot longer.  And instead of getting angry and destructive, I become apathetic and useless.  I don’t shower as often as I should, I can’t bring myself to go out and buy toilet paper, never pay my bills on time, accidentally/purposefully put important things off until the very last minute. 

I hate it. I hate what it does to me, my life and the people I love.

I may be one lost girl

without direction, under the hot sun in Vancouver

but I am mighty nonetheless.

I’m watching Bates Motel, and Freddy Highmore’s budding sexuality is making me really uncomfortable. It’s like, I saw you in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory you aren’t fooling anybody.

I’d be like

That steak I just ordered tasted better then your dick ever could. Peace bitch.

I’m having a very real problem where I want many more tattoos but have very little money.