So I'll write

Every fucking month for 5, 6, 7 days at a time. It didn't used to come this often, this consistently, this much like clock work... now it's routine, routine punishment. (no, I'm not getting my period) How many years has it been like this? how many months or years spent in hell after hell after hell.... in hell there's no telling time, when you're there you were always there. how many oceans have been unfairly seeped through my eyes? I've heard so fucking theories from so many fucking know-it-alls about why I get depressed, I just wish I could believe the one that makes it stop. They say it's a chemical imbalance. I go on medication. They say it's bad thoughts. I go to therapy. They say it's because I don't respect myself. I quit smoking cigarettes. They say it's because I don't feel good about myself. I start working out. They say it's because I'm not doing what I want to be doing. I practice what I think I want (I don't know what I want) and I'm content in my life. They say it's because I'm not expressing myself. I start this piss poor blog (haha, blog pity). They say it's because I'm lazy, so I make myself busy. They say it's because I feel sorry for myself, I learn to feel gracious toward myself. They say it's because I don't get enough sunlight, I move to Mexico. They say it's the fucking polyester in boxer shorts, so I switch to fucking silk, WHAT DO I DO?!

Although those things do improve the quality of my life for the other twenty days of the month (especially the silk), twenty days isn't enough, I want to ALWAYS feel like living. Okay, there's definitely people who get depressed and wallow in it and stay there to the point where they're more comfortable being depressed because it's much easier to give in and watch yourself sink into oblivion, because depression itself becomes a kind of catharsis, and struggling against that requires pulling will-power virtually out of thin air (and the air only gets thinner), and usually someone will be there to drag you along. I understand that. I know, I've been there, but that's not where I am now... I don't want to be dragged, I'm standing on my own and I want to be! and still every fifteen days or so, BAM it hits me out of nowhere for no reason. Oh, but you say theres is a reason Tim. Really? I have a reason to feel like dying ten days out of the month and the other twenty I don't? that makes sense. No, the truth is I do like myself, I do like where my life is right now, I do like being happy. It's not not even manic-depression with it's exhilarating highs, it's just depression and it's been nothing but a pain in my ass since I was? since I can remember anyhow. I'm really sick and tired of having my equilibrium taken down a notch twice a month every month and I'm forced to will myself around like a zombie... occasionally bursting into great sobs of anguish and snot.

I guess I'll have to quit smoking pot now... there's no other clutter to remove from my life besides my life itself. Unfortunately I've ruled out suicide, and lethal accidents are rare, so pot it is. And I just bought a fuckbunch too. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate this. I'm a fucking joke to god.

But that's not how I usually feel... and it's never been how I like feeling.

Shit. I'll be pulling myself out of the muck forever unless I beat this. What else can I do?