So everyone is officially here.

And what is bad is that I don't really feel a thing.  Not the happiness that I felt when I first got down here, anyway.

Maybe it is due to the fact that I spent most of the day writing a paper that I truly this is a load of bullshit, and maybe some of it is still guilt over what happened to the couch and this feeling that my mom is still angry about it and now she and my dad won't like my pup as much.  Which I don't want, because she is really really good and sweet.  Just anxious when left alone...

I don't know.  The fact that I've been thinking about the thing I always think about and how it would be done even among family is kind of...well...I originally typed frightening but I deleted it because that is what it should be, but I just don't feel that way in reality.  It is kind of more...eh, so what?  It isn't like I don't think about that and its possible effects often, and those effects on others are really what deter me from doing much.

What is sad is that I really do feel like I don't matter.  Like I can be replaced, easily.  And I know people will tell me I do, but I just don't believe that.  I don't know why.  I don't know if it is because of what happened with the ex or because I have lost many friends over the years or because my older sisters got married or because I have become a loner and a hermit (in which case, my feeling like I don't matter is really self-destructive), or a combination of all these.  It is probably the combination.

And every time I want to tell someone the extent of my own self-hate and depression, I stop myself.  Because I do not want to put that burden on someone.  Yet at the same time, I want someone to recognize it, and reach out to help me...even if at the same time I know no one can do that.  And who the hell would even want to?  I tried to reach out to the ex when he was depressed because of my love for him, but no one loves me in that way.  And no one could, with me being this way.  And even if I was happier, it isn't like I ever had much luck in the romance department anyway.  The only difference is that back then, I was content with that.  Now it just makes me lonelier.

So I just continue on as if everything is fine.  And that's okay.

Sure, some people know I am taking medication and I am still seeing a therapist and everything, but...they don't know half of how bad it is, really.  And I am afraid of letting people know.  Because it is one thing to talk to Nancy about it: that is behind closed doors and is really not the same as telling a loved one that I think about what it would be like to not exist and that I often daydream about it.

Really, Callie is who I feel irreplaceable for.  And I'm not sure why, but...I just do.  Maybe it is a connection thing...I don't know.

Bah.  I'm just thinking, I guess.


Did you ever think that we'd be three steps from the ledge, 
Contemplating awful things and thinking about the end?
Nobody mentioned that the pieces wouldn't fit,
You can rearrange them all you want, but the puzzle it was rigged.

We swore we'd never stray, 
right before we went our separate ways.
And now we're looking back,
We're second guessing all the choices that we made.