My depression is getting worse. I only had to deal with it when I had had one too many drinks but now, it hits me like a speeding car. No warning or anything. I've been trying to understand it and I think I do a little bit. What "they" say is true, words do hurt. People always joke around about me not being wanted. I get it, I'm that one in the group. They really do mean it as a joke but it's mainly because of the way I act. I need attention even though I swear I hate it. My entire life, I've become the annoying one because, good or bad, I had attention. Now, it's just a habit. I don't want to get attention that way so I've tried to think before I act, and try not to force so much attention on myself. Truth is, I don't want attention, I just want to feel wanted. Make sense?
I feel like weakness is taking over my body (another reason I think there is something wrong with me). I used to be a strong person. Everyone would tell me they looked up to me for that. Nothing would get me down. I would always stand with my head up high with confidence but that seems to have disappeared. I miss being that strong. I still have some strength but I don't feel it as much as I used to. I have enough to hold myself together when others around or until someone asks me if I'm okay. As soon as I'm alone, all the feelings from before, all the thoughts that I pushed away come rushing back and hit me all at once. I become uncontrollable and I can't help it. I can't stop my thoughts and I just cry. I've convinced myself that the crying is helping though. I need to get everything out and that is the best way to do it.
Another thing I don't understand is how my best friend is my best friend. We met three years ago and at that point, I was a closed book. I wouldn't let anyone in but somehow, he managed to. I've put him through so much these past three years and I don't know how he deals with me. I'm so thankful he's in my life though. He is the only one who can manage to make me smile when I'm crying. I'm smiling now just thinking about him.
