I'm not exactly sure if this really counts as a post-depression stage.
What I'm feeling is certainly not depression; the feelings I have right now are nothing like the ones I had three months ago. Or maybe I should say lack of.
Three months ago, I would have been under the blankets, trying not to wake up my parents with the sounds of me crying. Three months ago I would have gone downstairs and stared longingly at the knives in the kitchen. Three months ago I would have held a blade near my chest and and ask myself if I should plunge it in.
But now, I'm lying in bed at midnight, trying to make myself cry. I'm trying to make myself feel something, anything. But I can't. I don't feel anger or sadness or happiness. And it bores me. I'm extremely bored.
Before all of this, the boredom, the depression, the crying, I was... Well, I can't exactly say normal. I'm not, or ever have been, normal. I was, I guess, me. I had my close friends and my pets and my sisters and my parents. I loved them all. God, I loved them so much, it was ridiculous. Just the thought of one of them leaving or dying would send me into hysterics. I loved them so much, I didn't realize how much they hated me.
They now would argue, no, no, we never hated you. But really, if you love someone, you don't do those things to them. You would never, ever do those things to the ones you love. It's like shooting someone on purpose, and saying, oops sorry, I love you, I don't hate you.
I can't remember what made me realize all this three months ago. I've blocked out a lot of those days. But for me to realize, it must have been something big enough for me to realize they didn't love me.
And then it all hit me. Everything, every single time they did something to me must have replayed over in my head. I really knew it then. They did a lot of unforgivable s**t to me.
I don't love them anymore. I don't love anyone. I don't love anything. I try to think of one thing that will make me cry, and nothing. I'm not even bothered by this. And I should be. I know I should be.
I'm trying to decide if I'm angry. I think I am. I don't know. I can't tell.
I should be angry, right? I should be mad at all the people I loved, all of them who betrayed me. I should be mad at them. I told myself I shouldn't be bothered by them, that I was too good for them, that nothing they said is true.
I told myself I shouldn't be affected by them, but in truth, they just ******** me up more than I can imagine.
I am bored.
- Title: Possible Post Depression Rants
- Artist: RingmasterJayne
- Description: Scar tissue generally doesn't feel anything.
- Date: 02/23/2011
- Tags: imbored