I'm breaking. Falling apart. There are things happening to me that have no reason. Why am I feeling this? People tell me all the time that it's not my fault and my guilt is without reason. That's all well and good, but why the hell do I still feel like this? I should be happy! I started my senior year in high school, I just met a nice girl, I just sent a demo to a record company and I quit doing drugs and have been clean for about a month. Okay, that's all confetti and balloons, but under the celebration, some undocumented form of despair grows stronger and stronger. A form of hate is getting bigger and bigger until there's nothing left BUT hate, and that is now starting to show. My bouts of depression grow all the more extreme after each cycle, and I fear that after the next one rears its ugly head it won't go back to happy. It's getting stronger and stronger. I barely got up the motivation to write this. I'm breaking. Falling apart. Everyone I have talked to about this has attempted to label it and fix it with a diagnosis and a pill. Fake happy. A synthesized joy. When will my sun break through the clouds? Why does every other person get to enjoy their life and I, the terribly shy musician, go into my shell at the drop of a hat? I'm scared. And in a quiet house, darkness fills every corner. The tools are available, and that scares me more. It's coming, I can feel it. But people have brooms, they always sweep the dirt into the corner, into the darkness. And here I sit in front of my computer screen, one a.m., hoping for morning.