Chris M.

Nothing is enjoyable anymore. I hate being at school, I hate being at home, and I hate being around other people. I feel trapped. My room is kind of a sanctuary, but I’m not allowed to sit in my room alone all day.

I used to blog. How weird is that? Now I don’t even like fashion. I don’t like almost anything anymore. Nothing is fun or interesting. Everything is sad and exhausting.

Music isn’t working. Friendship isn’t working. I just go to bed as early as I’m allowed to and sleep as late as I can before I have to drag myself out of bed and to the bus stop.

What the hell is wrong with me? I live in a good house, I have enough food, I have clean water. I try to remind myself of that, remembering how I used to care and be thankful. I look for my old journals and read happy entries from good days. Sometimes I think, I had the same experience today, but I don’t feel happy about it now. Now I don’t see the point.

Am I depressed, or am I just dramatic and wallowing in self-pity? I used to tell people I was a nihilist. But now I’m pretty sure I’m not—I don’t think life has no point; I think I just realized that the point of life is nothing. (There’s a big difference.) But I don’t want to be a cynical babybat who hates everything, so I pretend to like things. I stare at myself in the mirror and practice smiling. I watch blank Word documents. I habitually skim things I used to enjoy reading.

Do you ever get depressed thinking about how since a person is four or five, their whole life is based on eventually getting a job? Get good grades to go to college to get a job to make money to survive. You can’t survive and then have a life in the meantime, because survival is the whole point of life. And there’s nothing else. You’re born, you work to live, and you die. Do you ever think that’s gross?

My one job is to do well in school. I have one job, and I suck at it.

The only thing in the world that I like right now is CVS. I like standing outside of it and watching people walk in and out. I walk up and down the aisles, thinking about who made everything and who will buy it. I spend all my money on cheap cosmetics that I line up on my sink and never use. ♦