I have a list of reasons I am shit and reasons my life is shit in my head

"I haven’t got a lot to say. I have had my ups and downs and, it seems, I only really feel the urge to write here when I’m either on a major downer or when I’m writing article-style to distract from a downer. I’m not the sort who writes when joy fills my soul. Those times are felt. Experienced. Lived.

So, deductively then, I must be on a major downer since I’m writing this. Yes. True.

I feel there is very little point to my life as of eight twenty-five pm, as I write this. By eight twenty-five pm tomorrow I have no idea if I will be feeling the same way or if my mind will be wandering down other avenues – I could be contemplating the relative merits of pickled beets over fresh. I don’t think I even realised that beetroot existed outside its purple-red vinegar drenched state until I was well into adulthood.

I have a list of reasons I am shit and reasons my life is shit in my head. I won’t bother writing them down because there’d be no point, as one of my main convictions right now (think we’ve moved on to eight-thirty pm now) is that there’s no point to my life and, surely, the corollary must then be that there’s no point to the reasons that point to my life having no point? At the very least no point in listing them. This is fun isn’t it?

I’m not going to kill myself. I have a pre-paid plane ticket to be in France for New Year’s. This by itself is not the whole reason I’m not killing myself. There are other reasons. Like, for instance I’m really busy being morose at the moment. It’s taking up all my time and energy and I like to put my all into a project once I get going. I’m just so busy being maudlin I cannot envisage creating a space in my schedule for suicide. I admit that’s not very forward-thinking of me."

Source: http://depressionetal.wordpress.com/