I guess the cycle of depression is starting up again. I was doing well, for what, the two, almost three weeks that I was drugging myself numb? It felt good, even if the reasons for happiness were false. The smiles, the good feelings, the sensation of wanting to wake up tomorrow had no grounding in reality, everything was falsified or conviently forgotten so there was no ache left. It was stupid. Dreaming of plans that I would somehow make happen, somehow get that person to like me again, or even tolerate me enough to have me around. I wish I had the wits to make it happen. I'm gone from denial, rage, pleading, depression and resignation. A full cycle of human despondency, one that I can't escape where I seem to hover between depesssion and resignation. It isn't any way to live a life. It's nothing to be called a life, not even a meager one. Two days of soberness (only half an hour until it really has been two full days) and already I'm trying to cheat myself and convince myself that taking something now wouldn't break this pitiful streak of abstinence. I'll make it through tonight, it's only a few minutes, anyway. I might even make it another day, or even a week, or who knows, three weeks like the last time I told myself I was going to stop. I don't have the inner strength to not take something, to supplant my feelings and vanish the negative thoughts. I don't have the comfort and the warmth of friends to hold me when I need it most, when I'm about to break. I don't feel guilt at how I act anymore. The most I feel is shame.

Even so, things begin again like they always do. I've been trying to meet new people, writing to who knows how many, hoping, quietly pleading that they'll find me interesting to talk to and will want to continue to talk to me. It's not going very well. To tell the truth I don't want other people to talk to, they are just surragotes when I want to talk to Jen. Communication is too difficult. Talking is like trying to translate a language I haven't ever spoken. I never get along well with people. I can't seem to relate to them and they can't relate to me. It's all an awkward dance, and I've always been too shy to participate.