I just coughed up blood.

Okay...now this is a little scary.

I feel really alone right now.

My depression has kicked into high gear and I find myself not wanting to do much of anything. I'm trying to stay focused. Thus far I've been able to work out every day...except for today. I decided just to come home and sleep a little today...because my heart hurts so bad. It will get better, I know. I have hope. I just keep waiting.

I burned my leg. I had my little lamp sitting on the bed and it toppled over and the shade fell off and (OUCH!!!) burnt a nasty place on my left inner thigh. If my thighs were skinnier, they wouldn't rub together when I walk, and it wouldn't hurt so bad. Working out probably hasn't helped it.

Steve made a plea for me this past weekend. He showed up outside my door at an ungodly hour and told me that he had grown up a lot and learned a lot and that he wanted me back. He said that he had been in a dark place, having a hard time when we dated...that I should have seen that and made allowances for that. He feels that I let go of our relationship too easily.

I told him that I grew tired of his wishy-washyness and that I am not psychic nor perfect and could not be held responsible for him having a hard time. He started ranting about not having a perfect life like me (that's so fucking laughable) and a perfect family, etc. That he couldn't help it that life had handed him shit.

I tried to explain to him that life hands us dirt (mediocrity) and seeds (hope). Then it gives us a nice slathering of shit and rain (our lows) and a nice bit of sunshine (our highs). If we're lucky we'll wind up with daisies or roses or something beautiful to call our own. But beware! It will die. And that's life.

But he didn't listen to me.

He called me last night very upset because the girl he's been infatuated with, Leigh, blew him off...again. He was ranting about how he always gets shit on and how life is so horrible. I referred him for counseling. He refuses to take responsibility for making his life better...he subconsciously thinks that life owes him something. But life doesn't owe us anything. We don't get anything we don't earn. Period.

He started ranting about how if he had a gun he wouldn't think twice about using it. I asked him if he was seriously suicidal...he ranted more about the gun. Then he said he wished he had money enough to buy drugs to overdose. I got pissed. I told him that there were cheaper ways of suicide...like slitting his wrists. He already owns a knife, after all. I asked him if he was suicidal. He mentioned the gun again. I told him I was calling 911 and hung up. He called me back 2 seconds later saying, "Don't! You'll make me look stupid if they come here and I'm not dying or dead!"

I'm here. I don't know why...but I am.

I went to Kroger just a few minutes ago to get some cereal and while stopped at a traffic light on the drive back, I noticed the back porch light of one of those run down office buildings in St. Albans zap out suddenly.

I don't know why I noticed it...it just caught my eye. And so I watched it...waiting for it to come back on...and it did. It flickered for a moment, fighting to stay lit, and then it was dark again. And then it flickered once more, wavered, and then died again. Over and over.

Life's kinda like that, isn't it?

We're alive for a moment at a time, burning as hard and fast and bright as we can in that moment, until we meet with darkness, with monotony and mediocrity.

Some people might think that darkness in this little simile should be associated with the anguish and pain we experience in our lives...but I don't think so. For in moments of anguish aren't we just as alive as in moments of triumph and pleasure? Isn't our light burning as fierce when we cry as when we laugh? I think it is.

And it is this philosophy that allows me to treasure my lows as well as my highs...to keep me pushing forward for whatever else may come. Cause when the light stops flickering, it's over.

I'm not ready for it to be over. Not yet.

When Shawn doesn't bathe, his head feels greasy...like he's rubbed hamburger grease all over his head. It gets fuzzy too. Like a peach gone wrong. PEACHES GONE WRONG!!!!! THESE ARE NO ORDINARY PEACHES!!! THEY FEEL LIKE SHAWN'S HEAD! There's some extreme marketing for you.

My stomach is burning. It could be the whalebone poppers I got from Arby's. That last sentence was supposed to have the word "jalapeno" instead of "whalebone". I had misspelled "jalapeno" and it gave me the word "whalebone" as a possible replacement. I liked the idea of whalebone poppers...so there ya go.

We watched American Splendor. Chris and Burns fell asleep. I was bored but awake. It's an okay movie...but don't expect excitement. It's just a look at a very depressive ordinary guy. He kinda reminded me of Shawn.

My cha cha is burning. It must be the vaginal infection that I got from fucking that donkey last week. Who know donkey cock could be so dirty?

My breathing feels weird. I don't really feel congested...just something is not right with it. I take a deep breath and it feels...dirty. Weird.

Chris grew a beard. He looks even more crazy now than normal. And he also looks slightly Amish. Great...an Amish Buddhist Mormon Psychopath. Just the kind of person I need as a friend. But he isn't actually a friend now that I think about it. Just some guy that I sometimes visit. Does that make him my friend? I don't know.

Shawn or "Duckie", as one of my friends wants me to start calling him, is talking into Burns' cell phone like it's a communication device thingie from Star Trek. He's doing a bad Shatner impression. I know he's my friend because he berates me so often.

Now he and Burns are frolicking on Chris' bed and having a conversation only using song titles. I need to go home.

I feel miserable today.

Like someone gutted me.

I've done little else but cry since yesterday evening.

I am alone. And empty.

Now he’s cut out the flute
From the throat of the loon
At least when you cry now
He can't even hear you

When chickens get a taste of your meat girl
When he sucks you deep
Sometimes you're nothing but meat

from Blood roses by Tori Amos

A lot of nothing has happened since I last blogged.

I'm still working at CTC. I still hate my job. I'm still tired most of the time. I'm still a bit depressed. Interestingly, the depression seems to have changed.

Instead of an uncompromising despair, I find something steely and determined behind my bleak mood. I recognize it. I've been here before. It's my "existing mode". Ben calls it "survival mode". I'm maintaining what sanity I have while trying to incrementally improve my position in life. I'm searching for and applying for jobs. I've started a diet (again) and I've started working out (again).

I know the rules of Depression. I am familiar with the deadly spiraling pattern of inactivity that keeps her company. And this knowledge gives me power to resist. My heart is heavy...but I'm trying to detach myself from that heaviness and do the things that I need to do to change my psychological health for the better.

I saw Pat this past weekend. We ate at River's Edge and mocked the half-assed attempt of the owners to decorate the restaurant in a South Western theme. We also mocked Pat's potato boat, which turned out to be mashed potatoes covered with sour cream and cheese. After our fine dining experience, we watched American History X over at Burnsy's. Fantastic movie!

I've started reading The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant recently. So far I'm enjoying it. It's not your typical fantasy novel in which the protagonist finds himself a hero and flourishes. No. Covenant rejects power at every turn. In fact, he rejects everything about the world he finds himself in. Very interesting.

I've been trying to entertain myself lately by catching up on movie watching. I’ve successfully watched Slingblade, Beautiful Girls, and Identity in the last month. I've got Pointe Break, The Ref, 25th Hour, Wall Street, and Deliverance on my list for February. Not exactly blockbusters, I know. I composed my list from friend's suggestions. I figured, what the hell, I haven't seen any of them. Why the fuck not? What else have I got better to do? It's not like I'm dating at the moment or anything.

Which reminds me...I haven't had sex in two whole months. And counting. So fuck you Chris Jarrett and Shawn Berry for doubting my willpower!!! Fuck you right in your respective ears!!!