Date: Jul. 20, 2002 Time: 2:22 AM My current mood is: What not to read when you're depressed "The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy cannot be created or destroyed, but can change its form. The total quantity of matter and energy available in the universe is a fixed amount and never any more or less." I made a mistake. Still feeling extremely depressed, I decided it would be a good idea to crawl into bed and read Prozac Nation. Ummm....I've had better ideas in my time. So far seems like a good book, but not a good one to read while you're in the middle of being severly depressed. She mentioned the law of conversion, referencing it to say that perhaps it's like that with medication, you take anti-depressants, they could cause bad future side effects(or present). It made me think though, is the law of conversion truely the way the universe must always run? No matter what I do to stop anything bad in my life, will something always have to take it's place? I feel like that always happens. I stop harming myself in one way, I start up another. I told my therapist last time I saw her that one reason I didn't want to stop my eating habits is because I'm afraid of what self destructive habit I will pick up next. Reading that quote, I wonder then is it possible for me to ever not be depressed? Could I ever be normal? Even normal depressed is fine with me, I'll take it. But can you really change something like that? Could I actually change my whole perception of life, my entire way of processing the world, the inner chemicals of my brain? To alter the chemicals in my brain that I was born with, doesn't that seem a bit odd? In order to not want to die I need to change....my brain, basicly. Perhaps I'm supposed to be like this then, actually that sounds a little too spiritual too me, like I'm talking about some god making me this way. No, what I mean is, why waste time trying to fix me? It's like owning a car that's a lemon. If a car is a lemon, it means that it always is shit, you will end up spending way more money on it to fix it repeatedly then you paid to ever buy it, and it's just always broken down. Eventually, once someone has spent enough trying to fix their car over and over, they realize hey this car's a lemon, just sucking my time and effort, I need to just get rid of it. This is how I view myself. It's not that I was fine, got broken, and need to be fixed. I was never fine, and the different things that seem wrong with me, well sure you could fix each individual thing, but more and more will keep going wrong, the actual problem is that I am just a trash heap. A waste. So many psychiatrists I've been too, I can't even remember how many, yet look at where I've gotten....nowhere. Sure, over the years my symptoms have changed, some have gone away, some have started up, never have I seen one ounce of a reason to think I am fixed, or ever will be. I've desperatly tried to find that place in my life, the specific moment that I became this way, trying to find some type of reason, something that I can say "Aha! That's what went wrong!", but I have yet to find it. Sure, there have been things that have made me worse, but never a defining moment. I can never once remember being or feeling normal. And when I say normal, I am not talking about fitting in, I mean just a normal human being, feeling/thinking/functioning normally. There has never been a time. In a way it's probably good, I don't have to dwell on how happy I used to be, how innocent of a child I was, how great everything seemed in my life till that nasty depression got to me. Nope, never had to deal with that. My throat hurts as I write this. Whenever I'm upset, or more like whenever I'm feeling what a normal person would cry at, my throat hurts. You know it bothers me when people talk about how you can overcome depression, how wonderful life is afterwards, how it's a treatable illness, and all that jazz. To anyone who says that....SHUT THE FUCK UP! I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear what will never be possible for me. I don't want to be told something is possible for me when it isn't. And now I can't snap out of it, you can't snap out of yourself. And you know what, who fucking cares about the way I eat? If it's a distraction from my ultimatly life long depression, why is that a bad thing? If it's something that temporarily makes me feel better, how is that bad? I wonder why is it so different from taking a lot of those medications for depression, those have many side effects, some possibly life threatening..I mean look at lithium, they need to constantly moniter your blood levels for that or you could die or something. How is that different? How is starving myself or making myself throw up any different then smoking? Howcome I smoke in public all the time, yet if I ate and publicly announced I was going to vomit, people would freak out on me? What is the death rate from smoking compaired to that of vomiting? Why am I too lazy to check right now? Eh, whatever. Once again I oddly feel a bit better after writing that out. This may seem odd to mention, but my tree is dying. It's my tree soley because I decided it was. My parents when I was little decided a tree was mine, it eventually got destroyed by some stupid kids on Halloween, it was a young tree obviously. My sister's tree is getting pretty big. It's sad to see mine, the leaves all yellow and brown, obviously not because of changing of seasons. Today I looked at my mom's plant/tree. It's a type of smal tree thing, but we keep it indoors in a pot. She decided when she was sick that she could relate to the tree. See, it was getting too big, and it's tropical so we couldn't put it outside. This plant book we have said what some people do is to cut it down very short, but most do not survive that. My mom had Leukemia, most do not survive that either. So my dad cut the tree, and my mom decided if the plant lived, then she would have hope to live too. Miraculously, the plant began sprouting new leaves, and is alive to this day. My mother however, is not. Today I didn't go to work. I didn't even call them either. I'm a fucking mess, I don't know what to do. I've done this way too many times, come up with way too many excuses. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm crumbling to pieces and I have no way to explain it to anyone. It's getting increasingly harder to do anything at all, and I have no clue how to remedy this. I still haven't talked to Katie or Julie. Katie keeps trying to call me/email me, I just don't have the...I don't know what....but something that I am lacking keeps me from responding. It's too complicated to imagine hanging out with them right now. I feel like...like that philisophical idea by Plato, The Allegory Of The Cave. If you don't know what I mean, it goes basicly like this: If you live in a cave your whole life, made to sit and stare at a wall, and the light from outside reflects shadows onto that wall, and you see peoples shadows moving about, you will accept that as reality. You have no idea what turning around would look like, you view the shadows of people/life to be actual people. Your world is shadows and you don't even know it. Except I know it. My life is mearly a shadow, it could almost be real life but it's not, it's just a poor attempt at one. I could go on about this more, but this entry is too long as it is so I will end it here. Night. 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