Note to New Readers: I'm leaving this one up for archival purposes, and as a reminder that living with my Condition occasionally makes me irrational and strange; but it's not, um, representative of my normal posting habits. I swear I'm a Serious Blogger, really, and not some angsty 13-year-old with a LiveJournal. ;) -DLK
I'm three thousand odd words from goal and having the hardest time I've ever had getting there.
I can't remember the last time I was this depressed. It feels like I've been so far down for so long I don't even know how to get back there from here. Which is why I can't sleep now, though I'm so tired I barely feel alive.
It's been a truly dreadful year in many ways. I keep wondering where it was I made the fatal error that's put me here, and I've now lost count of the number of breakdowns I've had today while thinking about it. I'm looking at being a month behind on my mortgage for the foreseeable future, my job just took a turn for the abyssmal (the best manager I've ever worked for just became a victim of beaurocracy in a really ugly way), and I look at my prospects and start to think I've turned into a particularly useless waste of space.
I'm sorry, everyone. I'm sorry I didn't turn out to be a better person; I'm sorry about whatever chance it was I blew that made it so hard for me to get my act together now. I'm sorry I have this awful disease that I can't afford to treat that makes it so difficult to be close to me. I'm sorry I can't get Christmas presents for the people I love.
I'm sorry about all this. I told Stacy, when I hit what felt like bottom tonight, that I'm so tired of this stupid world. I'm sorry I'm not making it any better. It feels like it broke me at last.