I recognize my depression, and I see it for what it is. I truly hate my life. Every year I hate it more than the year before. I can't stop making mistakes, fucking up every opportunity that comes my way. It's truly a shame to realize that all your failings in life aren't the consequence of your potential, but rather a consequence of your effort, or lack thereof. I would love to blame this on depression, and maybe it really is depression. But if so, it's self-perpetuating. Unbounded. I don't see a way out if that is true. There is something telling when you achieve the same outcome doing something extremely difficult as you do with something else that's extremely easy. It's as though I curb myself to just get by. Unconsciously. There are always these 'aha' moments at points in time when I've realized that I've fucked up and there is no going back. The easier whatever task is at hand, the more I fuck up. This isn't a conscious process, it simply seems to be the way that I'm wired. While I've had a rough life, a rough childhood--certainly things that may excuse my behavior in the eyes of others. It's one of those things that I don't like to talk about, you know, you say it and then the room goes quiet and people are real careful what they say to you after that. As though, they might break you if they said the wrong thing. But, I often wonder if I believe my own swill. Am I really fucking up because of my past, or is it simply, I know that I have every excuse in the world to fuck up, and so I do. I don't really know the answer to that question, or maybe I do, but I don't want to hear the answer. I get by everyday by creating a fake life for myself, in myself. I justify my mistakes, or simply pretend that they did not happen. All of them. It's sad really. But there are only so many cards you can stack up in your mind before they come crashing down. Actually, I've had my house of cards come crashing down before. Crashing down hard, and I got smacked in the face with a good dose of reality. I hoped at that point that I would have changed, that now I would be different, normal, and I could just get through a day like everyone else. But even today, simple tasks seem monumental. Impossible to accomplish. Not accomplishing them only makes them so much less simple later on. I don't understand why I can't get anything done. Why is doing laundry as hard for me as programming a website. Why are mundane, retarded, little things so hard? Why can't I remember simple dates, or simple times, or find time to go to the grocery store, or find time to get back to the gym. Every day it gets worse, I get worse. I have barely left my house in three months, except when I absolutely have to. And I can never wait to get home. I could just as easily drive across the country as I could drive to the grocery store. The hardest part is opening the door. My life has been at some pretty low points, and seems to just get lower and lower and worse and worse. I've thought about killing myself, certainly. But I imagine that's pretty normal, I'm sure everyone at some point has thought about it. It's more a childish pathetic thing, than a serious thing. Like running away. This usually happens when a little bit of my reality seeps in. I acutally do enjoy my little house of cards that I've built for myself, my cover, the life that I project to the world, and to myself. I enjoy reveling in the person I wish that I was. But I admit that I do worry about what will happen when my projection is exposed for the fraud that is truly is. There is only so much you can hide from the people closest to you, and it becomes harder and harder as time passes. Which is probably why I push people away, why I wish I was somewhere far away from everyone I knew, free from all my obligations and expectations. The worst part about hiding all of this is that therapy is impossible. I've tried. A few times. But, I can't help but hide myself, even in a therapeutic environment. At best, I can come here and write some incomprehensible rant that probably doesn't make any sense to anyone but me. Actually, this is quite embarrassing, my house of cards personality would be ashamed of something this pathetic.