So goddamn sick of myself. It's like I'm an annoying kid and you want to nod your head and move away... but it's me. Only one way I can move away from me.

You invade my every sense. I wake up and smell you on my bedcovers and I smile. For about an hour this morning I could see your eyes when I closed mine. The sound of your voice, your smile when I smile, the feel of your skin, neck, hair, as I run my hand up your back and snuggle in closer.
When I'm not with you, I surround myself with thoughts of you. This isn't healthy. I love you beyond anything I really had the capacity to believe in before. What happens if it ends? You're the only thing keeping me attached to this world. Promises mean a lot, especially to those like us that profess not to break them, but you can never promise feelings. What if they change? I'm gone, you are my leaning post. I don't exist other than for you. That's too much responsibility for one person.

The last conversation I had with him I mentioned I had a new favourite song. This was a long time ago. How long exactly, I don't know. But it was 'Forever Young'.
I just had a conversation with him on his blog about Morrissey. He remembers how much I like him. Well, I told him to listen to Morrissey, and he guessed it was me when I told him. And just after a conversation we had he posted the lyrics to Forever Young.
Shit, does he remember me as much as I remember him? Does he remember every incident as clearly as the day it happened? He remembers my favourite song from over a year ago, he remembers I liked Morrissey. Does he remember that day? Does he remember fake metal trees?
You've really thrown me off kilter here, Ryan. I haven't seen you in six months. I thought I blocked you out effectively enough. Obviously not, if two things you've done tonight have stirred up an unhealed welt of memories. Sigh.
I want to be your friend, I miss you.

I've hit a wall. I don't think there's long left of Brittany now. She's nearly over.
I'm not even going to try. I'm worthless. I'm a friend to lean on and then be forgotten, I'm someone to make you happy when I can't be happy myself. When was the last fucking time I was happy? You know you're in trouble when you can't remember the last time the thought of killing yourself wasn't at the forefront of your mind.
I can see why I didn't want to grow up last year. This was obvious. It was going to happen. It's going to happen.
This lasting a year thing.. yeah, that resolution is kaput. When no-one even cares any more and when the only thing keeping you tied to the earth are people that value you but not your life, you need to go.
Depression has never made me angry before. Today it has, and last night too. But at the moment I've come to a point of acceptance. I'm never going to be helped. The good isn't worth the bad, it  pales in comparison.
I can't drag myself up. I can't, and no-one else can do it for me. I give up.I'm crying. I'm torn, I'm broken. Bits of me that have been coping are now strewn all about, and they can't work without being attached. When I cry, I'm not crying. I can't breathe. My sobs get caught in my throat now, and for a few seconds, it feels like that's how I'm going to die. Red faced and wet faced, tears still running. An ugly Picasso, disjointed features and colours.
I want to have normal teenage concerns. I want to worry about a boy, or worry about school work, or be annoyed at parents, or about petty teenage fights. I want that pain, I want to throw this away. But I'm stuck with this and will be forever. That's the only forever that exists now. the certainty that happiness is something that will come into my life briefly, and flare out again, to be replaced by long, dark holes of loneliness and solitude and gut wrenching pain. Give me the pain back of a child. I want to graze my knee and cry at the sight of blood. Physical pain doesn't matter. break all my limbs, crack my skull open. I want to feel something other than THIS.How on earth can I keep living like this? This isn't living, it's dying, and slowly, and more painfully than I could have ever imagined.
Let me go. Let me die. I need to, it's the only escape I have.
There's no fucking reason for it, I don't need to explain it, it's just what I'm feeling. And if there's no reason, how can I stop this? I'm not going to bother explaining any more. Who am I? I don't want to hurt people, anything but, but it's the only choice I have. I'm killing myself, and whether I do that slowly or quickly is going to depend on me. I am not a good person. I am anything but. And I don't deserve the opinion of anyone who thinks I am, because they're wrong.

The only thing that's been there for me, that's understood me all this way, is my depression. And it's killing me.

A breezer drunk quickly, feeling like shit and being unwanted... fun night ahead.

Scratch that last post. I want to die. I don't deserve to live.
I'm going to make people hate me. Then I can die because they'll want me to too.

Today's one of those days I want to sleep and never wake up. I'm slipping towards a really low mood and I'm trying to keep myself from doing it but it's not working. I'm trying, I'm trying so goddamn hard that I'll kill myself just from the effort of staying relatively okay.

It hurts. Everything hurts.
People keep looking for reasons to justify why I'm feeling like this. There are none. There's no spark to it, nothing that sets these moods off. They just happen. It's my makeup, genetically and environmentally.
I can't deal with myself. I can't. But then other people can't deal with me either, they don't know me and I refuse to burden them with the knowing of me. I can't do anything.
I don't want to die, necessarily. I just don't want to... live.