Habits are difficult

To sustain a habit takes motivation. You have to really feel comfortable, good, or otherwise pushed to keep doing something. Yeah, there are some things that we do regularly that we hate. But there's something underneath that hate for those habits that keeps us doing them. We could be comfortable with the fact that at least everything is in order. We could be relieved that at least we're avoiding doing something that would pain us. We could be doing it because it'll pay off one day.

Then there's depression. Apathy and emptiness are my favorite words to associate with the condition. And do you know what that means for habits? Well, let me discuss something else. The phrase "old habits die hard" means that breaking a habit can have difficult repercussions, which can motivate a person to pick up the habit again. However, when I think of something dying hard, I imagine it dying quickly, brutally, and even irreversibly. Not quite what the phrase means. Applying that meaning to that phrase is pretty appropriate for a person in the throes of depression, though. Nothing really feels comfortable, or good, or motivating, because nothing really feels meaningful.

So, all those habits? The good and the bad, they just drop like flies. My habits all dropped, I remember that. It took time to start picking them up again, to make more habits. New habits can come up from things that can bring temporary and false relief, such as substances or self-harm. This blog became that habit that relieves me from my depression. Yes, sifting through and sharing my thoughts here is such a relief, no matter how much the urge to disappear tells me it's a burden. Disappearing is the true burden, though, and communication is my salvation. Keep talking, and eventually I'll get to keep talking to you, after all. You're my meaning behind all this.

Was a good beach day today too

Lucky for us, my weather app was wrong. Today was warm and sunny, so after school my little brother and I packed up a bag and headed down to the shores. I didn't really think about it much before just now, but this was the first time he and I went to the beach on our own. What other times he'd gone, our mom or grandparents had come with us. But lately mom's been giving David some room to spread his wings, with me keeping him under my own. Well, he's the wings guy, not me, but I think it sounds nice to describe us as birds of a feather.

So, first time at the beach on our own. Thanks to some last-minute interwebbing, we'd known that the water was in the lower 60s. Chilly. We didn't bring wetsuits, but we did take the caution of bringing swim tops. Actually, we don't have wetsuits. Anyway, apparently he's not resilient to temperature like I thought. He just gets used to it after a while. Meanwhile, I'm the one who charges into freezing water and dives into a wave before anyone else is ready. It took me a little longer than usual, though, with 30 pounds of insulation off me since the last time I'd gone in. We agreed that you wouldn't have been able to bear this water. I'm pretty sure the water up north was at least in the upper 60s back when we drove up there with you.

We chatted quite a bit while we were diving around. He asked me whether having tap water touch your eyes while they were open hurt. And that's how I discovered that he'd never washed out his eyes before. Wow. Misunderstanding, I told him that water with a low concentration of chlorine or salt doesn't hurt much if at all. And of course I told him that tap water doesn't hurt, it just feels weird. I thought it was a silly question, but apparently he was being quite serious. Well then!

But we had deeper conversation as well. I explained to him a few after-death concepts from different beliefs: paradise on Earth, heaven and hell, heaven without hell, reincarnation, even Valhalla. And he asked what I think happens. I told him that I think many things can happen, revealing my belief in spirits; from reincarnation, to roaming as a spirit, to being released to an afterlife. I said I trusted the Bible on what the afterlife is. He said he believes in reincarnation; the body is a machine, and when the machine breaks the energy moves to another machine. And I tried to come up with my own metaphor for it; if you've got the Minecraft launcher on a USB drive and you plug it into a new computer, the data for the launcher itself will stay the same but the game will have to be newly installed on this computer. Yes, I linked Minecraft to spirituality. I'm so silly.

The water became too cold for us after a little more than an hour. We sat on the beach for a while hoping it would warm up again. Walking back in, no, it'd gotten even colder. We pressed on, noting that were you here you wouldn't go any further than ankle-deep. I probably would have splashed you a little just to tease you. At this point my brother perfectly imitated the screech you've given when I did that before, I swear to God. And here I thought your memory was only vivid in my mind! Anyway, we determined not to give in. But we gave in anyway and left for Pizza Hut. We got a little cheese pizza, cheese-covered breadsticks that might as well have been a second pizza, cinnamon sticks, and a 7-Alarm Fire pizza. It was all delicious, but that pizza was just not spicy enough for me. My taste buds are scary, aren't they? We had a Supernatural marathon, and I probably ate enough to bump me back up a few pounds. I've got to make up for that tomorrow with more spices, absolutely no sweets, and a walk.

It was a nice day. It always is, going about with my brother. But I came to realize that I'm not the only one that misses you. He does, too.

Would have been a good beach day

Today my brother and I planned to go to the beach. The days have recently been warm, sunny, and just lovely for a few hours in the sand and waves. But we weren't able to go, because I was told while he was at school that I needed to stay to take care of our great-grandpa. I insisted to my little brother that he should ask some friends, even you, if they wanted to hit the beach with him. He didn't want to put in the effort to set something up with anyone else. That's my brother alright.

I'm entirely unsure how warm the water is. I intended to brave whatever temperature on account of the lovely weather. My brother probably wouldn't have noticed; he's always so warm, you know. I remember that the last time we went to the beach with you, at the coast up north from us, the water was pretty cold. Miraculously, you got in and got mostly used to it, something that's not very characteristic of you. Thinking back on it, you must have been trying so hard to enjoy yourself with us. Thanks for that.

Remember how you got tired of swimming and I had to carry you in my arms as I kicked through the water? Yeah, you probably remember that I admitted afterward how that exhausted me. I complained about how difficult it became with the rough, cold water and the voluptuous girl keeping me from using a stroke to swim. You felt so guilty after that, and you were frustrated that I didn't tell you at the time I was struggling. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner about it, but you were enjoying me ferrying you around so much and I didn't want to spoil that. Even though I did afterward. Anyway, that didn't put a damper on the rest of our trip. We still had lots of fun and ended the evening happily.

Remembering things like this, I feel less guilty about our separation. We did go out and make a few memories together. Not enough memories, but much more wonderful than nothing.

How this grinds on

How this grinds on... precious time is wasting away.

My state doesn't sit well

I've been sleeping in until around 9:30 lately. That suggests that I'm having it good. Though I am going to sleep past 1AM, so maybe that's pushed my sleep schedule over. However, that is at least 8 hours of sleep, which I couldn't get normally before. I still wake up early. I fall right back to sleep. But the sleep I get after waking doesn't feel restful.

For all that I say about getting rid of binary thinking, I can't help but think like that with my depression. Am I well or unwell? Recognizing that I'm somewhere in the middle is strange. Being in this middle ground feels confusing, but I know it should be straightforward. I'm not all better, and I'm not all gone. Something in me rejects that notion. Maybe it's just the discomfort. I'm comfortable with not being depressed. I became comfortable with being depressed. I'm still not used to being in between.

I'm not constantly asking myself, "Am I or aren't I?" It's just this omnipresent, subtle unsureness. It's replaced that constant, obvious apathy. I can't just think, "This is how I am now, but it isn't how I really am." The question creeps in: "Was that really me?" It isn't the static of thinking that I'm a monster or failure who should die. It isn't the trickle of a stream of satisfaction and positivity. It's an ominous hum that I can only just barely recognize the presence of. I feel like it has meaning, but I can't understand at all.

I want to bring this message to some sort of conclusion, but it just isn't coming to me.

Spaghetti

Whenever someone else makes spaghetti around here, I'm not satisfied. They salt the water, pour cold water into the strainer to cool the noodles, and butter the noodles when they're put away. I like my noodles freshly-cooked, too. So I made some spaghetti for myself earlier, since I haven't had any in a while. When I make spaghetti, I keep them plain from water to storage. At room temperature spaghetti in open air cools very quickly, so I put the strainer in another pot and pour the water and noodles into it; the steam keeps the pasta warm for a while, and I can heat the water if it stops steaming. Once I've served myself some into a bowl, I pour a little vegetable oil and cayenne powder into it and mix it in. Today we had some marinara sauce in the fridge, so I added that, too.

Spaghetti was something I cooked often for you. You didn't have it as often as Hot Pockets, chicken strips, or potato fries, but those are things we didn't cook after all, just heated. You like your spaghetti with mizithra cheese sprinkled on. I used various other shreds of cheese. I really liked mizithra too, but I never told you or used any because I didn't want to deprive you of it. I'm not very quick at preparing food and hadn't thought of the steam trick at the time, so the noodles always went cold too quickly and needed to be microwaved for you to finish it. You know, I think it was also the fact that the bowls were cold. I'll use my head sometime and think about how to warm the bowl on the edges before serving. Otherwise we could just warm the bowl completely and place it on a cool plate.

You left a container of mizithra here. I saw it the other week in my fridge. It had gone bad. We threw it out.

Not revealing all

I talked to a friend today who I haven't talked to in a while. We caught up a little. I told him that you weren't talking to me anymore. I mentioned my depression lightheartedly, and it probably seemed like I was just joking. Actually, he was wondering whether I was still with that girl I got with at the beginning of the year. Yeah, I haven't talked to him in months. I didn't tell him very much about how I have actually been doing. I felt bad even saying what I did say. There's a time and a place.

He could have already known how I was doing just by looking at my Google+ profile. We're in each others' circles. He could have easily found Tell Her Before I Die through my posts. So I don't feel guilty about not saying everything. It's convenient that the people who care enough can easily find what they want about me, while I don't have to say more than enough to anyone myself.

Another thing. When you repeat something over and over again, things get lost. Putting my thoughts into these messages avoids that. Every time they're read, they will say nothing less. I may forget exactly how I once felt and why, but those feelings and reasons are preserved in the words here. No matter how many people will seek to know, the response in these messages will remain the same. No matter when or where, people will be able to learn what it's like. I think that's a beautiful thing.

What I would like to say will rarely come out of my lips, but it will come from my fingertips. Until we speak again.

When hope slips

Yesterday I felt really meaningless. Nothing I did felt worth it. I did it just to be who I was. I thought, maybe it wasn't an extraordinary mood after all. Maybe I really am getting better, and all I have to do is hold onto it. So I told myself that I was fine, and I acted as if I was fine.

Now I recognize that, no, I'm still not fine. I'm still depressed, and that still governs how I truly feel. I can't blame myself for my wishful thinking. But how dare I be stupid enough to delude myself again? I probably wouldn't be feeling so bad now if I'd been honest with myself earlier. Once again, I'm not even sure how long I've actually been down. I've covered it up by saying that I'm better than before. The fact is, I may be better, but I'm still not good enough. Like I said, I can't blame myself for wanting it, but I'm foolish for believing it.

I was putting hope in the wrong thing. I was hoping that I was okay. When I realized that was wrong, that hope slipped away from me a bit. I can hope that I will be okay when you see me again. That won't be for quite a while, so I've got a lot of time to fulfill that. No need to force it. And if I'm wrong, at least I can hold my hope until then. I'm not lying to myself, because I know that I could be okay. I can hope that you will be okay, too. That's not a lie either, because you could be getting all the help you need. If you aren't okay, then I can help you. Ha, imagine me helping you? Like I used to, being the person you turn to for everything that you want. I can hope that I live long enough for you to speak to me again. By the time that's proven wrong, hope won't really matter. So those will be the things I will hope for.

I missed my second post yesterday. I thought that I didn't have anything to say. It's concerning how easy it's been for me to lie to myself. This scaffolding I've constructed out of the depths of my depression is shaking and splintering as I jump for joy on top of it, celebrating a victory that I haven't yet achieved. If I am to proceed, it must be with caution; I don't want to slip and fall.

Id fail

Remember in February I wrote a message about how I run Tell Her Before I Die? One of the things I mentioned was that the ID attribute of each article element "is the date and daily post number, in the format of DD-MM-YY-#". Turns out that's bad naming convention; IDs shouldn't start with a digit. I found this out while messing with CSS3 animation.

Starting today, I'll be adding the letter a to the beginning of each ID. I could leave the old messages as they are and simply move forward with this convention in mind. But, gah, I have a huge urge to correct all the other messages I've written. I mean, come on, all those screw-ups! The deterrent is that this is the 153rd message I've written here. I've got a lot to revise if I take this on.

I'll do it, after all. At the moment, I'm pretty sure it doesn't benefit anyone but me. This could help keep things simple for the future, though. And this is one of those cases where rewriting the past won't hurt anyone. Why not seize the opportunity? Better to turn something negligibly wrong into something negligibly right, especially when you're grasping for everything right in your life. For that matter, I will edit that February post with my updates convention. Nobody needs to know, muahaha! Though they can still find out here.

So, off to make edits!

I've been very blunt

I've been very forthright with people. When I have complaints about what they do, I haven't been holding back. I come off as ungrateful when they've done me a favor but done it wrong. Well, I am pretty ungrateful, after all; I would be grateful if I were well, but how can you be grateful about something that doesn't mean anything?

It isn't like I want to hurt someone. It isn't as though I believe unbridled honesty will always do less harm than good. It's mainly that I feel so misunderstood and I say everything too clearly to make up for that. Sometimes I've complained repeatedly and somehow the other person still hasn't gotten it. One option is to stop accepting that person's actions by ignoring them or by not asking for them. The other is to simply be more blunt.

I don't feel like this is a huge issue for me. When I'm better I'll just say, "I was depressed and apathetic. Being so rude isn't who I really am." I can't get away with everything just by blaming depression, but I think that's an understandable argument. You would always be clear about your feelings because that was your way of showing your love. You've hurt me a lot in the past with that thinking. When I'm clear I also hurt people. Yet I've learned that some things need to be out in the open, for my own good.

I hope you feel like you're well-understood. Don't be too frustrated if you aren't. One can never be fully understood neither by oneself nor by another.

Just bring it back

I stay still, avoiding depths and death
I push on, rebuilding my foundation
We can stand; just bring it back

Thankful for my brother

I'm very thankful for my little brother. He's so cool, though he's a bit derpy sometimes. Well, same goes for me, but in much different manners. He's much more subdued and shy than I am, and that makes all the difference.

There are many things I could praise about him, but there is one thing in particular that I am so grateful for. Before recently, the only times I would take him places, you would always come with us. It's already so likely that you're in my thoughts, but it's simply inevitable when I'm out and about with him. "She would really like this shirt." "What kind of food do you think she would have wanted?" "This is why I don't get lost like you and her in Minecraft." I always bring you up when we're out. He never points it out or even seems to mind. He goes along with the questions and comments as if there wasn't anything to it, just a regular conversation. That's so much more than anyone else can do. Feeling guilty that I was talking so much about you, I apologized to him. He said it was fine.

He's 13, but I believe that, despite his lingering naivety, he knows and can understand what I'm going through. I don't have to hold back any more for him than for anyone else. I don't depend on him, but I feel like I could if I needed to. I guess that's what having a loving sibling is.

Bring it back

Yesterday, I told you about my friend. I turned my back on my friend who wouldn't seek help. But by midnight I'd turned back around, because my friend called an ambulance after suffering the repercussions of a failed suicide attempt by overdose. I was honestly surprised. I thought that it would take hours, even days. I was pleasantly surprised, and so relieved.

I also mentioned my grandpa. After my little brother and I went clothes shopping today, we stopped by my grandpa's house to visit. I knew he'd be happy to see us. I didn't realize that my uncle is staying with him, so I saw him for the first time in a very long while and introduced him to my little brother. If I'd held some sort of grudge against my grandpa, I would've passed on this opportunity.

I'm glad that I haven't left anyone behind. I remember that, when I broke up with you, we stayed very close friends, and that worked well for us. Yes, I kept lying to myself, but maybe I could have done that longer if I hadn't tried to move on from you. If I hadn't stopped trying to see you, hadn't tried to leave you behind, maybe we could have made it more comfortably. Instead, all this happened, and you're further from me than ever.

Maybe people need boundaries, but trying to leave behind love can make it twist and morph into something horrifying and painful. Don't leave love behind. Keep going for love.

I hugged my grandpa

The other day my grandpa was at my house when I drove home with my little brother. I knew he'd be there; my grandma gave me a heads-up before I left. I've already told you that I stopped working with him and why. I'm not ready to work with him again. He's not able to help me with my depression.

But I walked into my bag yard, greeted him, and hugged him. He may not have the empathy that I need, but I still love my grandpa. He isn't constantly trying to hurt me. He wants me to be better, but his way of trying to help is ineffective. I don't think that I should stop caring for him completely because of those things. After all, it doesn't hurt me to give him a hug. It helps him when I do.

I'm not talking with him. I know that I'll inevitably be hurt. But I think that what I did is enough. He can dismiss the idea that I'm angry at him. He doesn't have to worry that I don't want to ever see him. That's all I can do, and that's what I will do. When I see him, I'll greet him, and I'll embrace him.

I wish that you could give me at least that much.

I just did it too

I had a friend for the past few months. I've been trying to help my friend. Self-harms, lashes out at the people around her, is suicidal, self-neglecting, self-loathing. That's okay with me. What isn't okay is that my friend would not get help. My friend just can't see a psychologist. My friend just can't go to the hospital. Of course my friend could, but can't... I'm across the world from my friend, so I can't do a thing either.

Look. I've made a decision. I've been trying to help you for months, but there's nothing I can even do. The only thing that I've changed is that I've built up frustration and despair in myself by being involved in you.
"I'm not going to talk to you until you seek help. I don't care what you seek help for, whether it's your physical problems or your mental problems, I just need you to take a step forward. Feel free to keep messaging me, but I won't message back until you tell me what it was like to finally get help.
"I love you. But I can't carry your burden if you'll never try to make it lighter. So, goodbye for now.

Tonight, I left my friend. That is what I said. After weeks of feeling helpless and slowly having my hope trampled, I realized it. I said that I don't leave a person unless they've hurt me. I'm hurt. My worry and helplessness has been growing and it's been digging into me. It hurts. My friend just recently tried to commit suicide, even though I pleaded not to be abandoned again. My friend has been paining me so badly, and can't do anything to help. I didn't want to leave my friend all alone, after so many people had done so. I didn't want to be a hypocrite for leaving like you left me. I've left.

I think I can say that I'm not a hypocrite, though. I'm not leaving like you did. You left after 3 days, after I had gone to a psychologist like you asked me to. I left after several weeks, after my friend refused to seek help over and over again. I've given a condition for me to speak again and said I'd still listen, while you simply left me scared and directionless and aren't even listening anymore. I don't want my friend to let me go, I just want to see my friend start fighting to improve. Would you truly even care anymore if death dragged me away from my goal?

No, I will never put my friends through what you've put me through. Maybe I can't take feeling responsible, but I'll never my friends away when they need me. Perhaps this can't be counted as leaving; I've only turned my back, standing in place. You're gone, except that I grip you tightly in my heart in order to stay alive, despite the fact that you refuse me all hope. My hope is the only thing I actually have left that means anything to me.

My mother's worry

I leave my university at 11PM at the latest to get home home in around 15 minutes. The first few times I stayed so late, my mom was concerned. After a while, she understood that it was okay. Now she's concerned again, for some reason. I feel like the concern is different this time, though. It's a little more frantic, maybe?

She's also become concerned about me walking about at night. Honestly, I'm doing something good for myself and there she is worrying about... what, exactly? It's clear that I'm nowhere near hurting myself. It's clear that I've been obeying the law. Returning home at 9:30 isn't late, and it never has been until now. Where is this sudden fear of the dark coming from?

I've lied to her before. The last time that I tried to visit you, I lied to her and said I was just getting gas. There used to be days that I told her I was going to school when I was actually going for a walk. During the short time that I stopped eating, I told her that I'd had my meals and nobody had noticed. But now I don't keep those sorts of things from her. Anything that I've planned or that's made me feel better or worse, I tell her. She is my complete confidant.

Well, it's a mother's job to worry about her children. Maybe there are so few things to worry about with me now that she's finding new things to fret over. That's a good thing, I guess. I'm just glad that she isn't very forceful or upset when she complains about me being out so "late". I love my mom. She's so caring.

Too good

I've been told that I'm too much of many good things. Too sweet, too kind, too funny. I remember when I told her that your love for her had rubbed off on me, and explained what I would be okay with you two indulging in, she said I was too good for her. Do you remember that? You were sitting right beside her. I'm always flattered when I'm told these things, and at the same time I find the people who say them to be cute. I'm wondering if it's me seeing cuteness in response to being flattered, or if only cute people happen to say those things.

I also remember that I told her soon afterward that I'm not as good as she thought. "I'm not afraid to take advantage of you," I said. If I'm too much of any good thing on its own, then I feel my negative traits bring those things down at least enough that I'm not so amazing anymore. I don't like being amazing. I don't like thinking that I'm better than everyone. I'm uncomfortable with being looked up to; I'd prefer others to see me eye-to-eye. So every time I take these compliments a quiet voice in my head is reciting what's wrong with me. This isn't a bad thing; it keeps me humble, and it makes me comfortable.

I'm sure that she doesn't see me as too good anymore. Being the self-protecting, reclusive, sensitive person she is, I've surely torn apart any hopes of being her friend through my actions with you. I'm not sure whether you see me as too good, either. I try not to think about that. I just keep going for love, and keep going with the love of the people who support me.

Not in the best state

Today I didn't have lecture in my class, so I drove to the bay and walked. It's been a while since I did that. You know how I stayed up all Monday morning but it wasn't the same because of my depression? Well, ever since I started walking the bay I've never felt burdened by traversing 6 miles over the course of a few hours, but today I did. On the way back, I started to regret walking so far. I wanted to stop somewhere, take another break. I wanted to go home. I blame the fact that my depression has been more mild.

When I first started walking, I was suicidal. I was so close to the edge. Walking that distance gave me something. It held my attention. I can't say that I'm unhappy with not being suicidal anymore. Trust me, I'm glad that I feel safe from myself. But I'm disappointed that I couldn't have the same dedication today as I did then. Where did that dedication go? Towards watching TV shows?

I hate being in this limbo. I'm not enough of myself to be as I was before we became friends. I'm not empty enough to easily disregard my desires. I'm even questioning whether I'll now pull up and out of this depression or, like I thought before, I'll dive back down until I catch the next extraordinary mood. In the meanwhile, I'm parts useless, pained, and self-loathing. I'd rather be closer to nothing again. But I think being like this is better than my depression is for the people around me.

Dull beauty

In a photo, a recreation, or the place before me, I see beauty and think, "That's beautiful." But depression saps the feeling of it. I recognize that it's gorgeous, but it doesn't touch me as it should. I keep some images and take some photographs. I show other people and I feel satisfied that they enjoy it. I keep these pictures for that, but also for myself in the future. One day, I'll be able to look at them and have them caress my heart.

There are three exceptions. I always find beauty in these three things. When I have a look, I feel well, even smile. I can sigh in awe, I can be glad that it's been with me. I try to adjust, try to appreciate everything else the world has to offer. I can't just bury myself in these three things. But, once in a while, it's good to indulge myself with memories and photographs.

The night, the rain, and you. Perhaps those are the three most important loves of my life. That must be why they are always so precious to me.

What to watch

I was talking to one of my instructors today about what kinds of shows I like to watch. Well, I was making vague hand gestures and slowly finding words to put together. 4 hours of sleep, night classes, midterms, yeah. I did find words, but I've been thinking about how exactly to explain what I wanted to. Somehow it's always easier to type down.

What I ended up saying to my instructor was something along the lines of, "I like to watch things that give me concepts and characters that I can put together in ways not necessarily explored canonically." My instructor had a different choice of words that I think better describes my taste. Something that keeps you thinking afterward. When it's finished, you don't just think, "Oh, that was a nice story." You start imagining all the what-ifs and filling in the blanks. Yes, not only more eloquently said than I could do, put together with seemingly no hesitation, but much wordier than I could manage. And here I thought I was doing well on 4 hours.

Marvel's put out a series on Netflix for their Daredevil character. My instructor recommended it to me, and I indulged as soon as I got home and reheated some pizza powdered with cayenne and dotted with jalapeño. Actually, I paused the first episode with a bit under 20 minutes left. It has certainly got a great first episode, and I'm excited to watch more. Well, to finish watching this episode, let's begin there. Of course, something like this suits my tastes just fine.

You've probably been gaming, not watching shows. Either way, I hope you've been engaged with your choice of fiction. I'll continue doing likewise, whenever I can spare some time.

I stayed up as planned

Like I said I would, I stayed awake all night. A good handful of code was written, and some of it was rewritten. My computer logic doesn't particularly suffer when I'm tired, but I made mistakes that I normally would, you see. Many hours of music were listened to between that mix I showed you and the Minecraft OST. That OST disappeared from my computer somehow, so I bothered to get it back. Since I was awake during the night, I was also able to talk to an internet friend of mine throughout her day. Oh Internet, how peculiar you make life on this round Earth.

Unfortunately, around 2AM that good mood that had got me pumped for an all-nighter had faded. Coding became tedious, decent posture became a chore, the music became uninteresting, and staying open wasn't something my eyelids wanted to do. I was starting to not want to talk to my friend, too. I know that wasn't just an effect of tiredness because that's never happened to me before on an all-nighter. My friend was being pleasant and offering interesting chit chat, too, so it's not like I got bored or irritated with her. Despite consideration of rest, I decided to continue push through the morning. I did recover my enjoyment, though not fully. All in all, it was a productive and nice night.

I went to bed as planned at 7:30. My alarm was set for 2:00, but I didn't nearly get that much sleep. I found myself awake at 11:30 instead, after only 4 hours of rest. I haven't been able to sleep since. Depression does that, but I also don't feel tired on limited sleep either, and I think that's also the apathy. Yes, I did my midterm today on only 4 hours of sleep. I believe that I did well though! Got the next half in two days, and I have much more work to complete in the meanwhile.

So even though all the signs say my good mood is over- maybe I should call it a extraordinary mood instead? Because, though I'm pained right now, I think I'm still doing pretty good. I'll attribute that to you, of course. When my mood ran out, it was my desire to be good enough for you that made me keep trying. That effort worked without hurting me. Thank you. That's something that I feel I can only do with you in mind.

Maybe an all-nighter

I've been doing a lot of studying and programming today. I've actually been enjoying it. I'm enjoying it so much that I'm still up when I had planned to be going to bed about an hour ago. You know I have a passion for programming like people have passion for playing videogames, watching show marathons, or reading books. Actually, I have those passions as well, but right now it's the programming that's got me up!

Now, since I've already passed my bedtime, maybe I should pull an all-nighter. I like coding into the sunrise with some electronic music in my ears. I don't have any responsibilities until 2:30 tomorrow, so I'm cleared to sleep in the day. I do need to sleep for my midterm tomorrow evening. Though I could also pump up on Coke; Coca-Cola, that is, haha. If I do stay up then I should put myself in bed around 7:30 tomorrow to get a bit less than 7 hours of sleep.

It's settled, then. With this respite from depression, I'd love to pull an all-nighter, and there's no reason not to. I don't feel tired and I'm having fun! Right now I'm listening to a SheepyMix called Forgotten Dreams, which I came upon recently and am absolutely loving. Maybe I'll put on the Minecraft soundtrack later, for old times' sake. You, however, need to get up at 5 tomorrow for school, so I hope you're fast asleep! Sweet dreams to you.

So today hasn't been any more productive

It's past noon and so far the only things I've done are explore G+ and listened to music. I guess I could give myself credit for not playing videogames or watching shows. Still, I haven't done the studying I said that I would. Hell, I haven't even eaten. At the very least I'm writing this message much earlier than usual, like I should be.

This is seriously who I am? Waking up late to neglect myself and my future in favor of making myself feel good? Selfish, lazy, hedonistic... I almost hate myself. Who even wants to be associated with a person like that? From the perspective of a person who wants to become nothing, being this instead is disgusting. At least when I want nothing at all I can get something done.

I could change it. Being able to see what's wrong now, if I can just keep looking that way, I can change this. What I never had was a sense of urgency. What I need to embrace now is the need to be good enough for you. I've changed myself before, and I'll do it again. No more empty promises; this is an absolute.

And let's start with right now. There's still plenty of time left in the day. It's time to be more than nothing and more than myself.

When do you think of me

I've wondered in what ways you think of me. Worried, more like it. I've found that isn't a good thing to give much consideration to. A better question to ask is when I'm in your thoughts. The results aren't as potentially devastating to me.

If you don't think about me at all, then that can be a good thing. That means I'm not even indirectly screwing with your life. I'm not to blame for anything stress you have because I'm not even at the back of your mind. It would make me happy to know that you're doing well, even if it's because I'm not there.

If you think about me all the time, that can be good too. I'll pull out a Fall Out Boy lyric for this: I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me! It means you still care about me. I still mean something to you. Perhaps I would mean something terrible, but then I can't quite be replaced in your life. You'd have to confront that eventually; you'd have to talk.

Ideally, you think about me just some of the time. I'd be out of your head long enough for you to go about your life. I'd be on your mind enough to make you think. You could keep your life stable, and you could come to really consider where you've left me. There's surely a balance that would help you to progress. That's all out of my hands, though. Hope and prayers are all I can turn to.

Slept out the contest

It seems that I'm having good days. I went to sleep before midnight and woke up around 9:30AM. It's during these times that I'm most myself. I can very genuinely be who I know I really am, though there's still a bit of acting or apathy. But I'm not really that great even when I'm myself.

I'm too prone to indulging myself. It's hard to find motivation when I'm suffering from the depression, but in this mood I'm just motivated to goof off. Today I've been watching lots of anime instead of studying. Normally I don't even need to study but I should be playing it safe anyway. I've also been motivated to get back into gaming, but luckily I haven't been sucked into that again. I've been swiping sweets, too; not just one today like I'd normally allow, but three sweets! I'll never reach my weight goal like this...

Even though I feel well, I'm just not performing as well like this. I wonder if I need to think a bit negatively to get myself into a more neutral mood and concentrate on my goals. That's kind of dangerous though, isn't it? If I take it too far, I'll just feel terrible and I still won't get anything done. No, thinking negatively probably isn't the solution. Instead, since I can take it, I should think about the future! I may have to live day-to-day when I'm suffering, but I can look forward when I'm well.

By the way, I didn't end up entering my lyrics in that contest. I didn't even finish them. I was too tired last night, and I felt I was too pressed for time in the morning. To be honest, I probably could have written meaningful lyrics in half an hour, just like I write meaningful messages in that time span. However, lyrics aren't much if they're written without a tune in mind. It was too early to sing to myself, should I wake people up, and there wouldn't have been enough time to find just the right rhythms and tunes. That's my excuse, at least.

Eh. I will finish that song, just probably not soon. Tomorrow I've got to work toward our future!

Songwriter's contest

Earlier this week I was invited to a Songwriter's Contest. I said that maybe I'd submit an entry. In the shower, I did come up with a main verse, though the contest wasn't on my mind at the time. The song, which is tentatively titled Perfectly Yours, is about the promise of a pure devotion despite the fact that such a devotion cannot be requited. Based on a real story, and I think you can guess whose.

It appears that there will be anywhere from 12 to 22 contestants. I'm not really going for the win, but while I'm forcing myself to do things I might as well participate. I'll finish the song tomorrow morning. It's late and, as I mentioned, I'm quite tired right now. I think the deadline is 10AM, but that isn't particularly clear.

When I've written up the lyrics, I'll make sure to show them to you here. Someday I'll record a vocal performance of it, too. I did record that main verse, to note. I wonder if you'll like the song?

Woah tired

This evening I'm very tired much earlier than usual. Usually I'm hardly wanting to retire at midnight. But tonight it's only 10 and I'm nodding off. I'm hardly coherent enough to put words together right now, honestly.

I didn't just eat. I didn't physically work hard today. One possibility is that I'm having a good day, and my lack of apathy is causing me to feel the weariness of waking up too early. Another possibility is that watching shows is starting to put me to sleep, having given me enough distraction from my own thoughts. Finally, for dinner I ate much more than usual, so maybe the increase in food intake is doing this? That was hours ago, though, so I have my doubts.

I'm going to go with good day. I may have awoken early today, but it has been a pleasant day. Nobody said a mood can't start in the middle of the day, right? I hope I get a lot of sleep tonight and have another good day tomorrow! After I write my second message, that is. And, of course, I hope you sleep as much as you can.

Their smiles

To be honest, it's hard to see others' feelings as important when you're depressed. Apathy is not pleasant. But I do feel disappointed when I'm not acting like myself - the me that wasn't depressed, that is. That's because being myself is part of being successful, and that's what I'm trying to do to be able to talk to you again, remember?

One of the things I liked seeing was other people being happy. I've found myself making a lot of jokes and goofing off lately. I feel great when someone appreciates my lightness. The best part, though, is that I'm largely unaffected when someone just isn't taking it. In the end, it doesn't hurt me at all to act witty nor to act stupid. That's one upside I didn't expect from depression. Well, it's more directly from apathy.

I'm not too concerned about you smiling. There are people in your life that I'm sure make you smile every day. What I pray for is that you don't frown. The times when you got upset with me are gone, after all; I'm one less reason now for you to be angry. So I want to claim sole responsibility for inciting your wrath or your tears. If I had it my way, nobody else would be allowed to, ever.

Please keep smiling, love.

What is darkness

What is darkness? Is it really so bad? It keeps things unknown, concealed, mysterious. People don't need to know everything; they can't. Sometimes keeping things in the dark helps to make life smoother. And why are some matters inherently dark? Why are death, abuse, and violence dark? Dark things are so common, even plain to see. Even when brought to light, how are they still dark?

So what is light? How is it so good? Being able to perceive how things seem to be, is it always better than never having known? A corpse decomposes in the ground while another rots surrounded by blades of grass. Should the corpse in the grass be respected more than the one in the ground, given the sunlight shining brightly on it? Scars that can't be felt would be seen in the light, but under a blanket of darkness they disappear. Memories of joy and beauty can be forgotten; are they still light matters when they've faded into the darkness of oblivion?

I think light is okay. It's easier to live when the world is lit. But I think that darkness augments the beauty of light. When the full moon shines on a starry night, the world looks just wonderful.

Our problems, our worth

Everyone has problems.

Some people have more problems.
Some people have bigger problems.

A person's worth isn't based on problems that they have.
Our worth comes from problems that we solve.

Not all the midterms

It turns out a midterm test I was going to take today is actually going to be next week. Silly me, studying so hard so early. That's what I get for not paying attention to schedules and deadlines, I guess. I'm glad that I got the date early rather than late, though.

Another thing I learned. Each half of the test will be administered on different days, one being a knowledge part and and the other being a practical part. For the practical parts of midterms, we are given an assignment and several hours to actually put together the desired code. My midterms haven't ever been given two days to be done, so this is new and, in my opinion, pleasant. Once I just barely couldn't finish a midterm by the end of class because I was stuck on a bit of the practical part. Do you remember how frustrated I was that I couldn't finish? I remember telling you about it. The instructor decided to discount the practical part, instead just using our work to unofficially gauge our learning in the class. Most of the class simply gave up on that practical, by the way. Only one person managed to finish it.

Well, more studying to be done this week. Wish me luck for next week!

Inspiration

I've gotten a few compliments about Tell Her Before I Die. Beautiful, deep, and relatable are among the qualities ascribed. I appreciate these comments. Now if only they were left on the blog itself, instead of on G+.

There is one word that's been said to me that really gets me, though. Inspirational. How could these messages, or how could I, be inspirational? Whenever I think about inspiration, I think of things that already are and already have concluded. Inspirational stories are ones that turned out well. Inspirational people are the ones who have beaten all the odds and become successful or found peace. Relatable, understandable, even pitiful are what I can easily see my efforts and experiences as. But inspirational? I'm nowhere near a conclusion. All is not well, not yet.

That's me thinking narrowly, though. I can turn my head and see where that word is coming from. Maybe things don't need to have concluded to be motivational. Maybe it's the hope in a struggle that can be inspirational, not just the victory. From that angle, I understand. I say things like that I'll keep going for love, and maybe that is inspirational. In the Prevention box I say, "I'm still here for her, so maybe you can keep going." Sure, I hope that can truly be inspirational. I guess that, if I need a conclusion for something to inspirational, maybe I could look at the short term. Right now, I'm holding my ground against depression. I'm still alive and going on. That's a good thing. If that's the final note for this moment, then I think it is inspirational.

I guess I just prefer the word motivational for the short term, for things that aren't quite finished. I am motivated, by you and by everyone who reads this. Thank you for helping me to keep going.

Midterms

This week is midterm testing week for me. I couldn't concentrate on the last midterms and finals I had to do; I did very poorly on them. This time, though, I've been able to concentrate on studying. I focused on my test today and I feel that I did well! I'm somewhat proud of myself for that.

It just goes to show that I can do these things with the motivation of seeing you again. By keeping my will to be right for you, instead of berating myself with how wrong I am, I'm able to take life on! As you always have, you drive me to give what I've got. Everything is set up for me, I've just got to use this energy you give me to keep things in motion.

I'm still weak where I should be. I'm still careful not to force my way or lie to myself. But to be successful takes strength, and for that I'll use this strength that you give me. You needed me to be strong. This won't be too little, even if it is late. I'll get back to that place where we were so happy.

I failed love's test before. I've learned so much since then, studied my mistakes. When I can take that test again, I will pass. I promise.

Hard to keep a schedule

I just want to drift off. I just want to drift away. The tendency is to be swept behind, but I know that I shouldn't. I need to still be here if I'll get what I want.

That's why I'm posting minutes to midnight. Jeez, I was so close to giving up. Maybe I'd make up for it with 3 posts tomorrow, I've done it before! No, I can put forth effort. And you're worth that effort put forth!

No, I suppose this won't be a very long and deep message. But, basically, despite how difficult it may be for me, you are worth it. I'll do the best I can.

How can we

When I write the messages on Tell Her Before I die, I usually don't mean to say something inspirational or motivational. This is my outlet for my thoughts and feelings about you, from the most direct to the most tangential. However, when I talk to friends who are troubled, some more troubled than I am, I do try hard to help. I try to say things right and I try to help them progress. This morning I was talking to one such friend, and I made a certain statement that I wanted to share with you.

You can only tell the truth about what you feel. Nobody can tell the truth about their limits. They always see limits where there aren't any. Too often I say, "I can't just stop being depressed." That's probably not true. I could probably just snap my fingers and stop being depressed. It would likely wreck me mentally, but I could still do it. The reason I haven't done this is because I feel that I shouldn't simply stop; I need to truly recover. "Can we?" isn't what we should be asking. The real question is, "How can we?" I could just stop being depressed, but instead I want to work through it. I want to learn and improve, so that I can turn around and help.

We shouldn't simply say, "No, can't do that." We need to ask, "How could it be done?"

I should sleep earlier

I always go to sleep after midnight. That's what I've done for many years, with or without you. Now that I can only wake up early, though, maybe I should start sleeping earlier as well. It isn't like I'm feeling any particular effects from getting less sleep, but I'm trying to be normal right? A normal person is supposed to get at least 6 hours of sleep, at most 10 hours, ideally 8 hours. To get that, I need to turn in early.

Before my nightly prayers, my head is full of thought. Afterward, though, some hidden exhaustion bursts up and knocks me out. I never considered sleepiness to be a true feeling. If it is, then it makes sense that I wouldn't feel it most of the time, given how drained of emotions I am. It makes me wonder how truly tired I am with life. Not that knowing the answer would make any difference, really. Just curiosity of the cat, as always.

I wonder if your sleep habits have changed from when we talked. If you are talking to people and getting the love you need, I'm sure it has changed. Even if those habits haven't changed, I hope your dreams are always sweet.

Don't slip away

More and more lately I've been feeling the urge to stop. I've been feeling like stopping these messages. I haven't been talking to as many friends. I haven't been going out. I have stopped pretending that I care in many ways. It's a dangerous urge to be isolated that has been picking at me for a while now. I know that, once I've isolated myself, I'll feel the urge to disappear.

I can't let that happen. I need to keep acting normal so that I can do normal things. By doing normal things, I can progress in life. Progress leads to stability, and stability will lead you to me. I believe I've described this ladder before. I don't think there's anything I can do to stop this urge, but this feeling is one I actually should ignore. I've said that I need to be honest with myself, but what good is honesty when it takes me away from you? There's a time for being true and a time for coverup. I wish the times could be more clear. Life is all about the unknown though, isn't it?

So I will keep going. I won't slip. I pray that you're continuing too, firmly. We must keep going until we meet again.

Lyric desperation

Not every sentimental song fits what I feel. I find myself listening closely, though, trying to relate. I even relisten, knowing that the lyrics aren't quite right. There are a good handful of songs I've collected in my playlist, but for some reason I keep trying to grab for more. Just how many songs do I need to claim to be satisfied? I suppose that's the wrong question to ask.

Words, melodies, actions? Perhaps no amount of them will satisfy my need. Need for expression? Specifically, expression to you. Should I ever even be satisfied with how I've expressed myself? Perhaps I should always hunger to weave or discover things that take these feelings and give them form.

I should perhaps put aside finding my words in different lyrics. I haven't even memorized lyrics of the songs I have found. Maybe I should learn just what I've tried to say so far.

The wrong freedom

Freedom is an odd thing. It can amount to anything. The freedom to do something great and helpful, versus the freedom to destroy and bury. To defend freedom requires that one give up some amount of one's own freedom. By exercising freedom, one often encroaches on that of another person. Life isn't about being free, I think. It's about holding hands, whether termed restraints or bonds.

In the past years, I've found freedom with you. We took each other to experiences we'd never reached before. But I found many of the wrong freedoms. I did lovely stuff with you, but when it came to doing something spectacular I was too intimidated. I thought of constraints that were hardly even there, and I let them keep us back. However, emotional constraints came undone more easily. Maybe it was the rawness of your expression that frayed those constraints and let me act out.

I feel that losing you has changed that completely. Those emotional constraints are quite strongly back in place, maybe regenerated by the tears that refused to be shed. Those spectacular things I wouldn't do before are so clearly in reach, now that I see how insignificant those other constraints were. Well, perhaps I was unshackled back when I took you to the beach that night. I now know which of these freedoms is right and which is wrong.

I concentrated on your negatives

When I broke up with you, I made myself empty. I ignored the feelings that I had for you so that I could be strong. Then I lied, trying to make myself believe that you were nothing good for me. Even though we were still friends, I treated you harshly. You asked me to see a school play with you and I refused, saying, "Why would I watch people I don't know in a play I don't care about with my ex girlfriend?" You asked to be driven home from school and I replied, "I'm not your boyfriend anymore, so I'm not obligated to go out of my way to save you a short walk." I refused to go out of my way to make you happy, and that stung you.

On top of that, I complained about you to other people. I said that you ran off on me with a lesbian. I told people that all you did with me was use my computer and have me do chores. I sighed that you never bothered to be intimate with me. I moaned that you would always yell at me or hit me. Good riddance, I claimed! But that claim was a lie to them and to myself, because they were exaggerated and partial truths. I refused to acknowledge the rest of what we had, of what I felt.

I can only imagine that you're doing the same to me now. You're trying as I did to leave us behind. You've pushed me away by not talking to me at all. You probably tell yourself and your acquaintances that I'm just a nutjob pervert and life is so much better without me. If you are saying that, I forgive you. I know just what it's like to think that it's best to paint our picture in ugly hues.

Kill la kill

Today, I finished watching an anime called Kill la Kill. I wasn't very interested in it when it debuted. It has strange animation and artstyle for an anime. I saw plenty of images on the internet of barely-covered women from the series, and you know I don't care for ecchi. Finally, the name just didn't catch me.

However, Kill la Kill is more than those elements. Men and women alike are shown in various levels of clothing, including none (though the body wasn't detailed). I came to appreciate the way the show looked. The name ended up being insignificant, though I eventually figured that "la" is meant to make the title sound more French; French phrases occasionally make their appearance in the dialogue. The anime has great lore, interesting plot, and, I'll admit, enticing eye candies. A tiny bit of the humor was not my thing, but it mostly got me smiling and laughing!

I think you'd like this one. Action, lore, comedy, hotness, all well-put into 24 episodes. The anime seems at first to be about familial avengement, exaggerated people, and clothing that grants powers. All the simple concepts are revealed to be part of a much thicker and more complex tapestry of plot! I don't really expect you to watch it, since you're so busy and anime isn't a priority, but I still think it would appeal to you!

Last minute messages

I really should write these second messages earlier. With only 10 minutes left in the day, I feel a bit rushed to put my words together. At least the first message today came in the afternoon, though. Those words were meaningful, and I had a lot of time to think about them.

I've been so desperate to distract myself. I know for a fact that ignoring how I feel only makes things worse. But the urge of depression is to slow to a halt, to cut everything off. It's not so easy to defy that urge, to do things that won't help and deny things that will. It's much too early to slip away, but what can I do to return to my place?

Sometimes I ask, what am I even holding on to anymore? Even when I know the answer is you, I sometimes keep questioning it since you aren't here. I have to keep going, even to the last minute.

Togetherness

You were always more of a game enthusiast and I was more of an anime enthusiast. We're both PC gamers, but we've only ever had one gaming PC in the same place. I always let you play because you were so opposed to watching me. It's not like I didn't like watching you, and it's not like you didn't care for me watching. You complained whenever I turned my attention to something else. However, I often felt like doing that wasn't quite spending our time together.

Watching shows is something we do together. It's not interactive, but we are sharing the exact same experience. We make comments and eat the same snacks. We hold each others' hands and lay side by side. From that first time we watched Welcome to the NHK! on my bed, to the last time we watched a dance showcase, I felt like we were truly spending our time together. We did have our times together with games, though. For example, even if my low-spec laptop ran it poorly, we did play Minecraft together. In that game, it was less about the non-existent story we were absorbing and more about working, fighting, and screwing around together. Playing Portal 2, Dragon's Nest, and other games together was lovely too, even when we weren't in the same room.

But nothing beats laying together on my bed, staring into each other's eyes. Admiring your face, feeling your skin on my lips, holding you close to me. That ultimate experience of spending time with you, with nothing but our love occupying us. I will always hold that experience so dearly.

I should spread these messages out more

I'm sorry. I've been writing the two messages each day very close to each other lately. It's nearly midnight when I've posted the second one. I really should at least write the first one in the morning. I have many opportunities to write in the morning, but I usually get up and tackle my hunger and entertainment first. I rather struggle to have priorities since everything is so meaningless to me. That's no excuse though.

As always, it isn't like I have nothing to say. It's been difficult to find words lately, though. I feel like they come to me more easily at night. I've dealt with my day, lived it out, and I don't bother looking forward to tomorrow. It's the perfect time for me to sit down and hunt down words. All is quiet, and I'm more capable of getting in touch with those phrases that have been eluding me during the day.

I'll try to write tomorrow morning. I don't have work, don't even have school, don't have to go out of the house. Of course I still have responsibilities, but they can honestly wait. Many of them have been waiting for quite a while. I really need to put my clean laundry away. Well, do look forward to an early message tomorrow, okay? Take care.

Water

I love the water. I always enjoy a glass of good water to drink. I like swimming and floating around in water. I like taking terribly long showers. I smile in the rain as the raindrops hit my skin and the world. My astrological sign, Scorpio, is a water sign. The element of the Kingdom Hearts character you assigned to me, Demyx, is water.

Lately, I've been droplets. I've hardly been enough to do anything, and that's fine. Looking back on times when I was angry, I've never been fiery; rather, I've been the crashing of waves or of a waterfall. When I was vengeful, I've been the drag of a river's current or a shore's riptide. When I'm upset, my surface ripples on contact with falling precipitation of frustrations and regrets.

So is that why I can't burn up inside? Is that why I feel so dry most of the time, and at others I feel like I'm drowning? Is that why, at my worst, I'm dragged through a vast sadness as if by terrifying and uncontrollable jets? Has my shoreline's waves stayed small, has my river shriveled? I suppose that water cannot die, though, like a flame can.

Closing up

I've been open with people ever since you convinced me to be. So, I'm scared right now. I always have the urge to cut everything off and become nothing. Now I'm fulfilling it. I haven't talked to our friends in days. I quit working with my grandpa. I stopped answering most phone and immediately replying to messages. I'd like to think that it's a pruning, but this really is dangerous. In some ways I feel satisfied, but in others I feel plain wrong.

Should I be trying to make these connections again? Should I be putting effort into something else? How far will I let myself go, how isolated will I become? That last question is the only one I can answer, really; I won't let it go any further than this. I know for a fact that I need to stay connected in order to be safe and sound. I know that I need to be safe and sound to talk to you again. I know that I need to talk to you again. So I will give what I can to not keep closing up. I'm so worried...

What you can

You are a limitless person. Truly, the boundaries that you have are ones you've set on yourself. I tried to keep you free. I gave you the encouragement to try so many things, and you did. We've both done stunning things, for better and worse. But you were always able to fly higher than I could.

Looking back, then looking at my feet, the only reason I could be nearly as unbound as you was because of you. No other love has ever taken me so far. I'd never even asked someone to a dance before you. I never even managed to actually take someone to a date. Each time you said yes when I hesitated, you broke a chain inside me. Maybe some of those chains should have stayed intact, but I nonetheless became much more than I'd been because of you.

Now nearly every link is broken. A single burst of strength could send me careening into anywhere. My soul must stay limp, since the iron drags against me no longer. Those chains were fear containing me, and you shattered so many of them. I'm still scared in some ways. I'm still afraid of death, for example. I'm glad that chain is still there.

So that is how we ended up in this unbelievable situation. You broke my fears and ran where you felt like running. You are amazing. You inspire me to keep going. Because you can, so you make me capable as well.

Absurd

My life is actually pretty absurd. The world isn't as normal as I thought it was. What we've done is so unbelievable. The issues of the people I know are surprising when made raw. I've sunk so low into this, and I've seen who would truly be with me and who would scatter. The words I find in my heart hold other people, let them know that they aren't alone. Phrases of desire and of depression alike inspire people to speak and to continue.

That is nothing like the world I knew before. That world was so shallow, yet I cherished it. This world is so deep, yet I can hardly reach out for it. This is all so weird, but I'm not bothered by that. I've become comfortable in this world of absurdity.

First sight

Your older sister invited me and some other friends to the mall. She had to bring her little sister along, much to her dismay. So, we all met up at the mall.

I didn't think much of it at the time, but I noticed you right away. Somehow, you were more there than the rest of the world. It's not quite right to say that you stood out. The presence of reality seemed to bend around you, augmenting you. You were unique in your being, more in place than anything could ever be.

And how did I act? I was instantly pulled in. I treated you like you'd been my friend for days. Most of what I remember of that time was you. I couldn't help but look at you. I just had to say things to you. I remember walking at your side while we went about the mall. I even messed with you like I do with good friends, snatching your soda and playing keep-away with you. Of course I gave it back in the end. It's so hard to believe how comfortable I was with you. And I hate to admit that, given my antics, it must be true that boys tease girls that they like.

What did we think when we parted that day? I thought that you were a fun girl to have met, but we wouldn't really cross paths again. You've told me that you thought I was just an obnoxious guy that you wouldn't have to deal with again. How wrong we were about how intertwined we were, my dear. Not until recently have I really stopped to consider what happened that day; on my part, was it love at first sight?

I miss you

I think it's obvious. Nonetheless, I want to make it clear. We're young and have so much time. That time is being wasted with this separation, but there will still be enough left. For what? For forging new memories with each other.

We've had experiences where one of us felt wonderful at the other's expense, and even times when we couldn't help but drag each other down. What I remember when I think of us are the moments we spent together in elation, in comfort, in joy, in love. I want to sculpt more of those times with you, because I know that we can do it.

Someday your hand will stop shaking. I'll hold it then. We can start crafting something together again.

Dismantling

There was an old dresser that we'd left in the backyard for months I think. The top of the dresser was weathered so badly that it sagged downward. We couldn't start using that dresser again if we wanted to. It simply sat there, with nobody paying any mind to it. Nobody tried to take it down, move it, even cover it.

Today, I grabbed a screwdriver and got to work. I started removing the screws from the dresser, slipping the components out. I started separating the planks of the dresser. I took my sweet time, putting the screws and parts aside to be dealt with later. There were two parts I had to destroy in order to remove. That weathered top was connected to the rest of the dresser by some bits that had absurd, huge screws. I just ripped that off. There was a random plank through the middle of the dresser, too. I just brought my foot down on the plank, snapping the wood and knocking it to the ground simultaneously.

Controlled destruction can be a good release for negative energy. It's not surprising, then, that I got nothing out of snapping the plank nor ripping the top off. Depression has taken away my ability to be angry, truly. Exerting brute force was no relief for me. However, otherwise dismantling the dresser did do something for me. It wasn't forcing something to its breaking point, but working it with a degree of attention to bring it down. I don't have wrath to let loose, but an emptiness to occupy.

Our blood moon

I wasn't able to wake up to see the blood moon this morning. I wonder if you got to see it. If you did, I wonder who you saw it with. I get the feeling you didn't even know it was happening, or that you otherwise slept it over like I did. Sleeping it over definitely seems like something you'd do.

Of course, the first thing I thought of when I heard about the blood moon was the first time we each ever saw one. We had slept at your house that night, with the alarm set for early in the morning. We put on our glasses and walked out your front door into the chilly night to stare up at the moon. The moon was very close, and a shadow crept across its surface from an angle clearly distinct from your average moon phase. We stared up at the sky and watched as the shadow very slowly but surely progressed across the surface of the moon.

While it was all very fantastic, it was clear that we wouldn't see the moon become completely red for a very long time. So, we absconded from the biting outdoors and into the house. I don't think we went back to sleep, which was probably the mistake that I made this morning. I remember that we marathon-watched Epic Rap Battles of History on YouTube to pass time. You didn't have your own computer yet, so we watched on the computer in your mother's room, sitting on the foot of her bed. I believe we had a blanket draped over our shoulders and I held you as we laughed and giggled at the videos.

After we'd spent a good deal of time indoors, we ventured outside again. Thinking back, we should have brought the blanket. We were so sleepy though. The moon had very much changed its position in the sky, so we couldn't see it from your front door anymore. We walked out to the street and hunted for the ideal location to see the moon, now much nearer to the horizon. We walked up and across your street, finding our spot on a neighbor's lawn. The cold, still air pricked our skin and seeped into the soles of our Converse shoes. None of this detracted from the amazingness of seeing the moon so big and red. As the sun rose behind us, the surface of the moon was dark again but the craters were outlined in red. It was really amazing to see, for both of us, for the first time.

What was best, though, was doing all this with you. The moon was stunning, but I kept looking to you. I loved your awe as you stared up at the moon. Your expression was more precious than the beauty of the celestial body. Even when my eyes were directed to the moon, the experience was made better by the fact that my hand rested on you or in your hand. We may have been enjoying the night for this spectacular lunar eclipse, but I feel that I truly cherished it because I enjoyed it with you.

I didn't write, of course

Yeah, I didn't get to post yesterday. I'm still here, though, like I said. I've always been horrible at making spare time before a trip, to be honest. It isn't like I didn't wake up early; I always do. But it's always the small stuff, like taking a shower for a bit too long or deliberating for too much time on what to wear. All the time I waste always stacks up and messes with my plans, but at least we didn't leave late this time. Usually we leave an hour or so late. You know my family's reputation for that, actually.

The trip was nice. I messaged some friends on the way there. I watched a weird movie with my favorite cousin. She, my little brother, and I walked one of her (big) dogs to a park and back. Later, she and I drove the other two dogs, only three months old but still big, to the park. They're not used to walking on leashes, so it was difficult to move them around. They also didn't quite understand getting in and out of the car, but they weren't bad with actually being in the car. They were also more comfortable in the car on the way back. All in all, we made a lot of progress with those two, but I wish we had harnesses instead of collars. I felt bad tugging them along, even though the collars pressed against the back of the neck and not the front. On the way back, my brother and I watched a movie. We planned to get a little sleep before waking up and seeing the lunar eclipse, but we missed it. I did wake up too early and saw the moon being partially eclipsed, however.

It was a good day. I'm always wishing you were here, but it was nonetheless a good day.

Traveling tomorrow

Tomorrow's Good Friday. I wanted to go to church, but instead I'm going with my family to visit my cousins. That's fine. I like those cousins. But I really wanted to start a churchgoing habit... oh well.

I'm almost surprised that we're going anywhere for Spring Break. I don't actually have a break from school, but I don't have classes on Friday, so I'm clear for the trip. It isn't a long ride, and it isn't out of the state. Good thing I'm feeling particularly well, so I'll probably be able to put on a big smile for my cousins!

I'm going to try to type up tomorrow's messages before I leave. I'll schedule the second one to be published sometime after noon. If that doesn't end up happening, please don't be alarmed. I'll still be alive, I promise this to you. =]

Really talking

I've been repeating over and over lately that communication is the solution to our problems. But, even more than that, to what extent are you communicating? You may be hanging out with enough people, but are you really putting everything out there with a few people? You need to be able to discuss your thoughts from the surface to the core. You need people to sift through absolutely everything with you.

I tell myself that you're doing just that with at least two people. There's your psychologist and there's her. You talk to her every moment she has free, and you've always told her more than you tell to me. I don't know how often you talk to your psychologist, but that person is hopefully experienced and trained to help you explore your issues. It's on you to tell that person everything there is to tell, and I tell myself that you're saying it all.

Keep talking. Really talking. We'll be okay.

The previous message was a lie of course

Happy April Fools' Day. Yes, the last message was a lie. I had to do something in the spirit of April Fools', right? And, of course, that lie was meant for the other readers, not for you. You would know better, obviously. There were a few hints in that message that showed that it was facetious.

1. Post title:

   The title of You and I are TALKING AGAIN!!! breaks the title pattern that I mention in the message Blogging. The only capitalized letter in the title of a normal post is the very first letter. Those titles don't have ending punctuation marks, much less three of them.

2. Too good to be true:

   Sure, the content started out believable. It started to get a little questionable when I said that you're canceling the restraining order and taking me back. By the end, we've got a life set up for us in New York complete with fuck buddies? As if!

3. Hover your cursor over the paragraph:

   The tooltip that appears says, "April fools..." That easter egg just flat-out admits it.

On one hand, I'd like to apologize to the readers who didn't notice these hints and actually believed the story. You know that I wish it were true, too. On the other, though, I'd like to thank them for taking me so seriously. Depression isn't a joke, regardless of the attempts I occasionally make to lighten these messages up. If you didn't look at that previous message and think, "You've got to be kidding," then I know that you don't look at my other messages and think that, either. I really appreciate that you understand how genuine I've been.

Trust me, the only time you should be skeptical of a message's authenticity is next April Fools' Day. Thank you so much for reading. Surely we'll make it another year, won't we!

You and I are TALKING AGAIN!!!

Oh my God, it all payed off! All those months of suffering have come to an end, finally. I don't know what made you pick up the phone and start talking to me again, but I'm so glad you did! Your smile on the screen is like the sunrise on my world, and the notes of your voice are like birds singing awake~ You're going to cancel the restraining order, and you'd even like to take me again!! Yes, of course I'll live with you in the new building in New York that your grandparents gave you! I actually got a job offer from a New York-based company a while ago, and it looks like I'm the best candidate!! I could easily ask what openings they have in New York. The pay for all the positions I qualify for are really high-paying with not many hours, so I could pretty much buy you anything and spend all the time there is with you in the Big Apple. You have some boys and girls who want to play over there? Damn fine by me, babe. This is all so exciting!!!