Jesus tap-dancing Christ! What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Actually, the question is rhetorical. I know what is wrong with me. It's what the French call le depression. I think that's what they call it. Does it even matter? They're french! Feh!

Anyway, yeah, I'm finally caving into that fashionable web trend of whining about my life right here on the web. In my defense, this is about the only place I can talk candidly about what's going on without getting perplexed or worried looks. Why am I even prefacing my remarks? Who fucking reads this thing? (Okay, I can name 2 people who do, but they already know all of this--on some level, anyway--so it won't be news to them if they choose to swing by the blog.)

So, back to my point (see? there it goes...), I have, for some time now, been battling with depression, which in the last month has taken a turn for the worst. Not in the dire, get him on the hotline way...I'm much too queasy to do anything violent to myself or others, even if I do think about it. Anyway, it's been very crippling, and I'm not sure how to get past it. I am becoming incredibly lethargic (which is dangerous for someone who is already pathologically lazy) and have no interest in seeking solace in the world outside of my apartment. I've cut off my friends, who for a while now have been used to not seeing me as much because of financial reasons. So it's convenient to have that worked out ahead of time, so I don't have to deal with explaining to friends why I don't want to go out with them. This also has the added "benefit" of me not having to talk about my depression. I know that sounds puzzling, as everybody says that talking about it with someone--anyone--will help. And if I could afford it, I probably would consider therapy (even though I remain largely skeptical about how effective that would be for me. (I emphasize me to point out that I do believe therapy is effective, but only for the right people. Anyway...getting off that tangent...I don't like talking about it because I don't really have (m)any friends who have an experience dealing with this, and quite frankly, I have no interest in talking about my problems with people who can offer me nothing in terms of credible counsel. So...I suffer. I have been able to alleviate some of it by talking to my mother (who also suffers from depression) this past weekend. But even that (which eventually included a trip to see her and my niece and nephew) proved a temporary relief, mostly because I hate burdening my mother and worrying her (and she was very worried, as she's never really seen me this way) and I felt guilty, even though I know I shouldn't because I know she wants to help.

So ends my harrowing tale of sadness and lethargy. I probably will delete this entry in a day or two. But, I felt it necessary to type this out, probably for the small, therapeutic benefits of getting this out in the "open."

~fin~