I hate depression. Who doesn’t? It’s bloody annoying and makes us all upset. So, why am I depressed, or, should I say, for what reason would I be depressed? Well, let’s find out.
Just wanna say, if you’re really happy, please don’t read this. If not, go ahead. Might cheer you up…
So. Why am I writing about depression? Well, this last weekend was reasonably upsetting and I thought I’d make a post about depression in general. What happened? Well, Benny and I were discussing when we first realised that everything we knew and loved would, one day, no longer exist. Not a good piece of knowledge to have. It emotionally hurt me and as for Ben? I’d rather not talk about that.
I first realised when I was eight. That was nine years ago. I recovered reasonably quickly, but at the moment that I first realised it, I was petrified. I didn’t think I could cope, but I found a way, mostly through violent video games, creative writing and most importantly, music. I listen to an incredible amount of music and if I hadn’t forgotten my headphones, I’d probably be listening to it now.
Then came secondary school, a few short years after. I wasn’t popular at either of the two I went to, having very few friends at each and of those friends, even fewer would admit it. Secondary school became a living hell, but I stuck it out and left that place with better grades than just about anyone would have expected. That was helpful. It meant I had my pick of any school nearby and I chose the one that I not only thought would do me better in terms of my education, but would also be something I enjoyed. Thus, New College Stamford was my choice.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve enjoyed my soon-to-end time here. My A2 year is flying by at a scary pace and I regret a lot of things I’ve done over the last 20-odd months. For example, I wish I’d stayed the kid I was when I joined, keeping distant from people and making sure I didn’t hand homework in late. I was doing well, but sadly, I got sociable. I blame critical thinking. Before that, I was the kid I needed to be. After that, I started the downward trend into what I am now.
Even today I’m being constantly attacked by a wave of disappointment and upset. We got our January Exam Results this morning. Two of my exams were resits and the other two were new topics. I got a D in one resit and U’s in all the others. I did WORSE this year, than I did in one of the subjects I’ve redone. How? Why? For what possible purpose? Well, I have decided not to get concerned about it. I must have improved my English Exam grade, as an A and a D do not level out as a D (last years overall grade). I fully anticipate failure in Maths, Psychology and EPQ (the AQA baccalaureate subject that is an extension of the critical thinking, in which I got my highest exam grade last year (C)). English is now my only hope and to be completely honest, I’m not surprised.
I am a failure. A complete and utter failure. I have never and probably will never amount to anything. I can live with that. What I can’t live with, is the loss of hope. Right now, I’m sitting here moaning instead of seeking someone from my Maths group that might have the exam paper we’re marking today, that I just so happen to have left at home, thus requiring me to redo ALL the questions so that I can mark them in an hour from writing this sentence. It’s a tough exam. I can’t manage it.
I suppose I should just count my lucky stars that I didn’t apply to university. I kept telling people I have, but I didn’t. When people I know with much higher grades than me are being turned down, I haven’t got a chance. I dreamed of going to uni, but my dreams have been shattered by reality and all I want now is to sleep for a long, long time. It wouldn’t help. I’d have to wake up eventually.
I’m now, sadly, single again. Cynically single. I like that… Single and in the belief that it won’t change, or that if it does, it wont last for long. Well ladies, if any of you actually read this, I’m open to a casual relationship. I’m not perfect (but then again, who is?) and I like my personal space. You have access to my email. Let me know… For the love of God, please, let me know…
As you can see, I’m a little hung up about it. It wouldn’t be so bad, but I’ve also forgotten the massive bottle of cherry coke that I was going to annihilate today. Ah well. I can drink it tonight between my mopey masturbation sessions with random people on the internet that frequently assure me that they are young single females from America. Happy times.
It’s been a bad day, it’s been a bad week, it’s been a bad year and most of all, it’s been a bad life. Not as bad as it could have been, but heck. Who am I to judge? I bet someone, somewhere, has had a bit of an issue with their life, on a much grander scale than I. Good luck to them. That’s what I say.
So, depression. I hate it… How about you?
PS. For anyone that can actually be bothered to read this, it is NOT, I repeat, NOT a suicide note, but rather an acceptance of my impending failure. I hope you enjoyed. Someone has to…