My musing.

I wish I had cancer.
Actually I don't know why I've lived this long. When your depressed, its hard to share it with people. Zimbalta can help! Zoloft! Prozac!, there's even medicine to help your antidepressent work better. Yeah I have it.

Lately, due to my own laziness, or maybe from a sense that maybe my depression was something of a gift to help me see the world in a more unique, darker, and more creative way than the rest of the world, I stopped taking my medicine. After taking 50 Mg tablets for over 8 months and doing this is, well, really bad. And I hope you heed my advice if you plan on doing so.

This happened within this past month. I started two new jobs, moved to LA. Even with three roomates, the apartment was always empty. I had noone. There were many phonecalls, there were many, but late at night or on a long weekend, you just wished there was someone to see, touch, laugh.

It was truly lonely, sad. I found that if I was dating me, I would want to kill myself. Too much of me, sucked.

I never let that stopped me, I was an adventurous soul. I found places to be where I didn't need anybody, the beach, the cofeeshop, the bookstore. It was wonderous! I even read more books and articles in these spare weeks than I did in college, landing a gig with a local paper to cover concerts and bands. I would go to these amazing venues, alone, but without company I was free to take in every inch of the sights and sounds of the people around me. The lighting of the room, the laugh of a couple, the mood and atmosphere. It sucked being alone, but this would do.

As I slowly ran out of medicine, due to my lack of prescription refill planning, I lost control. I got physically sick, went to the ER for a bad case of the flu. Without them my happy pills, I felt really dizzy, vertigo. Everyday I felt like the world were circus mirrors, my eyes felt like bulging, and my migraines flushed the life out of me. Only I felt this. No one else. Each and everyday, if I didn't feel like emotionally dying, I felt like physically dying.

When I tell people this, they don't know what to say, when you tell them enough times, the answer is surprising but in actuality very realistic.

"If You want to die so much, why haven't you done it already?" Trust, I've been told this countless of times, and some of it from my closest friends (who didn't realize I haven't forgotten).

Well, the question is now rearranged. Why do you want to die? with Why haven't you died yet?

What is it that's keeping me here? I don't know.