Losing Time, Losing Mind.

I remember being depressed. Sometimes I still get that way. Recently, I haven't been feeling so crash hot but nothing like I was.
What it got me thinking about was: When did the depression go away? I honestly can't track it. One day I'm ready to put a hollow point through my own face to stop the pain, the next I'm worrying about what shoes to wear with which tie.
Shit, I got boring. Or I realised the futility of drama.

So from an insiders point of view, and with retrospect, I'm going to try and rationalize my depression. This will go three ways. Either we'll get there. Or we wont. Or it'll come back. And then you'll be seeing a lot more of me here.

So. I think it started with my mum. And Hollie. Fuck.
Hollie. My first girlfriend. That was not a good relationship. That was not healthy. I was terrified of her. Of what she could do to me. Of how she made me feel. I'm glad we happened. I'm also glad we're over. Funny thing. I can't really remember anything about her. Anything much at all. It's like it just didn't matter. Lost my virginity to that girl. Doesn't mean shit to me.
And my mum. Hollie and my mum go hand in hand. Mainly 'cause Hollie was there to see it go bad.
My mum and her fuckin' drinking. Drink drink drink. And then shit would hit the fan. Wanna read more about it? Hit this http://newuseforvintage.blogspot.com my old blog. Bitch has a whole page to herself.
Anyway. I think the bad feelings started there. But it all got repressed. Then Lucy came along.
I'm going to firmly place the blame on her.
It's terribly harsh but I feel if she hadn't been as much of a... [I typed bitch here but that's not the word. She was just a 17 year old girl who wasn't in love with me]... to me as she was I wouldn't of gotten bad enough to trigger everything.
But once I was down. It didn't go back up.
Never self harmed. I pride myself on that one. Seems like everybody does it.
Ate a lot of downers though. I think Molly still has footage somewhere of me necking 9 or 10 during a webcam conversation.
Fuck. Jesus shit. Thinking about it now, I'm surprised I'm still alive.
I was so over everything. I was so ready to go.
It's funny. I think what kept me from offing myself was the fact that I let myself be a bad person. That gets me in trouble. The fact that I *embrace* your pain. But it saved me.
I didn't kill myself. I just did my best to destroy her.
Made her cry, made her doubt, made her miss me. Let her go in the end but still.
Lucy. Your pain was my therapy.

Feeling that way was not fun. I'm glad I'm better now. I firmly believe I was sick for a period of time but like any sickness it can get better with the right medication. Or the right care.

I also wanted to add to this, just in case she reads it:
B, I fucking love you. Sorry for invading your privacy. Sorry for doubting you.
Xx