I don't think I've ever made a truly personal entry on this site. I'm just in an emotional battle with myself currently and feel like writing, but don't have enough raw emotion to rhyme. Stop reading here if you're not intersted reading about "just some girl with some issues" as someone called me, and now I call myself.

Basically, I'm always fighting with myself. I have wrestled with depressiion for as long as I can remember. Well, in specifics since third grade, maybe earlier? I'm not sure anymore, my mind just ain't what it used to be. I was on medications such as anti-depressants and mood stabilizers, I stopped taking these on my own accord due to how they made me feel less human. The emotions I felt, I felt were not of my own. I'm not sure what to really type here. There's just so much to say so that you, as the reader, can understand where I'm coming from. Too much in fact.

Currently, I've taken up cutting again. There's a future poem. I was under a lot of stress from schooling and personal things. A blade has been the only thing to truly console me throughout my short years on this earth. It still is the only thing actually. 

When on my medication I had forgotten what it felt like to be depressed. I forgot how depression is. I forgot how it will sufficate you until you give into it and you fall and fall. Maybe you'll crash into the concrete, but usually that what you pray for. Falling is the worst. You feel yourself falling. But there's nothing to grab hold of. There's no one to help you. You're lost and scared and alone. There is nothing but darkness and this hollowness that fills you. Can you imagine how scary it is to realize you once forgot what that was like?

It's back though. I'm falling and falling and there's nothing and no one to stop it. I'm becoming numb and hollow again. My mood shifts constantly, rapidly. The blade helps to calm me, and quells my silent fears. How long can it do this though? Eventually I know it'll just make me feel even more empty. 

I'm just so sick and tired of this feeling. But the feeling the medication gives me is worse. It's fake happiness. That's a happiness I do not need. I do not want. In a sick and sad way, I've fallen in love with my depression. I want to rid myself of it, but when I did I felt like a piece of me was missing. I actually ... wanted it back at that time in my life. And here I am, it's back. I don't want it. 

If you've read this far, just quit. I'm at the point where I'm going to keep writing and rambling. This is just for me. However, if you have nothing to do, please do keep reading. It'd be nice to know someone wanted to.

I'm not trying to complain. I'm not trying to grab your attention with my own personal struggle. Everyone has their struggles. Some greater than others. Struggles are struggles though.

You know what? I lied. I'm done with this. I have but one more thing to state. I am my own worst enemy. Want to know how so? I think. I think and i think and I think. I think about death, life, love, hate, madness, reality, fantasy, everything. I think and I think. I think about so many things until everything relates to me and my life and my happiness and all that stuff. I think until I drive myself insane. I'm my own worst enemy. It is me, that has brought me to this point. It's been me all along.