I'm not a classically depressed person as far as I can tell. I might be much more repressive, and it's causing me such bothersome feelings that I feel guilty for allowing myself to feel. I do feel extremely tempted to just not bother with dealing with upcoming problems, just like I always run away from crap. I've been in a partially long distance relationship with a lovely, beautiful, amazingly smart and funny English girl for two year. I'm an American lady, by the way. We are fantastic and we work so well together. But, she tends to be too smart for her own good. She'll read between the lines, begin imagining I'm doing things behind her back. I adore her. I forgive her when she bursts and says the absolutely most stinging, cruel, and upsetting about me in these random bouts of parania and rage. Normally, she's very calm and collected. I take it. I take it calmly. I remain cool and help her through those fits. She normally comes through. This time, I've upset her by assuming she was upset, and she took it as a sign of me doing wrong. Boy, I done put fuel on the fire . This time, she told me she trust me no longer. She "doesn't want the like of me" hanging around her family. That I'm not worth it. That the trip I've planned for a year and have paid for to visit her and her family in England is over. The emotional investments I've put into her. I don't let myself get close to anyone. I've never been so close. So happy. If I can't stop the most beautiful person I know from hurting because of me, well then I KNOW I am not worth it. Natually, everyone I know keeps reminding me of the trip. Keeps telling me how excited I must be. If I live, next month I'm expected to board a plane. There is no way I can admit to my parents that my "friend" is actually my girlfriend, and she dumped me. I would have to go. But what would I do alone? How would I be able to do anything? Everyone expects pictures of me and my love. At this point, I'd rather be dead then be outed and knowing no matter what I do I'll hurt her. Obviously there are other things I don't want to deal with other then silly romatic crap. Work, for one. A dead end 99 cents store that is extremely busy. There is nothing worse then doing your job, being completely reliable, not missing one day in the years you've worked, picking up slack for your coworkers, and being yelled at by customers every day when someone doesn't show up. It's begining to crack the walls I've put up. It sounds silly when I say I feel their eyes burning me when I'm left alone. They yell. They scream. They whine. They think that I' ruining their day on purpose, that the fact that there is a line of twenty angry and poor people buying crap doesn't bother me. Well. It bothers me more the crap I get for being consistant. I remain happy. I am always polite. I ignore the urge to cry when a custoner humiliates me and asks me why I am gaining so much weight and no longer look pretty anymore in front of ustomers and coworkers. That's what I get, what I deserve for wasting time and trying to be a better person. Good guys? They always finish last. Always. I want nothing more then to not be there for the next emotional crash I'm attempting to hold back. If my loved ones hurt because I am dead? Good. Lord knows I can never tell them how I feel, what I am, who I love. My love, if she doesn't believe me, will go on thinking I was insincere about my feeling for her. They were all so real. She'll hurt over imagined things. At least then they'll know I wasn't joking. My front of happiness really does work most times. I dare say it isn't even a front, and I am a chill and happy person. But these things, these things that will come to light next month, going through them will bring me NOTHING but unhappiness when the walls tumble down. I feel more numb then anything about my plans for suicide. If things are not resolved within a few days, I don't think I'll be able to save my pride or my heart. The method I have in mind seems so straightforward, that I fear it's just so easy I can go through with it in a flash. Holding out hope for a few more days, then maybe I'll attempt to get help. But help will bring light to my private feelings and problems that are private for a reason. Explaining myself to friends and family? Hardly seems worth it. I am really not used to ranting like this >>. It feels really strange to write it out. WALL OF TEXT<<.