Does anybody use xanga anymore?

No...

Conflicting Feelings

There's so much I want to do before I die, and so little time.  I want to travel.  I want to write.  I want to get married and have kids.  I want to clear someone's name in court.  I want to edit English papers for high schoolers.  But I'm not going to live forever, and I'm so glad.  I think.

I've been battling depression for years.  The first time I tried to kill myself, I was a senior in high school.   Here we are four and a half years later, and I still have not succeeded.

Mom and I were watching Click on Saturday night.  That movie with Adam Sandler where he gets the remote control to fast-forward to whatever he wants.  He could also rewind and revisit fonder memories.  That night I wondered what I would do if I had a remote like that.  I'd definitely go back and visit fun times.  Vacations to Miami or Disney World with my family.  Late night chats till 3:30 AM with Priya.  Movie-hopping and mall-trotting with Jo.  Mario Party with Yan.  Senior year Battle of the Classes.  Snuggling on the couch with my puppies.  Countless movies gone unwatched with John.

And then that fast-forward button.  For the longest time I thought I would fast-forward to the end of law school.  Just get it over with, and be armed with a degree in Criminal Law and do what I had to do.  But I changed my mind.  While driving to Old Navy with mom, we talked about what we would fast-forward to.  She would fast-forward to any time where all four of us kids were happily married or at least settled down.  Some holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas with all her children and their significant others, with their children and their puppies.  One big, loud, happy family.

Me?  I would fast-forward to the end.  The very end.  With maybe half an hour to go.  Say my good-byes, and that's it.  I'm in such a rush to grow up.  The sooner you grow up, the sooner you die.  Kids don't die; grown-ups do.

It's funny.  I was hanging out with John just yesterday and he was giving me a back massage and he said, "sometimes it feels like you don't want to be here" which confused me because I see him every Sunday and I love spending time with him.  When I told him that he said, "no, not here with me.  I mean here on earth."  Sometimes he's right.  Sometimes I don't want to be here.

It started out with sleeping pills that didn't seem to be strong enough.  It progressed to slitting my wrists.  Now it's to the point that it's all I can think about, to the point where I have googled "how to successfully commit suicide" and read about it.  How many feet of rope I'd need to hang a person of my weight.  What's painless, what's quick.

I'm not proud of this.  Rather, I'm scared.  Scared of the pain I'll cause other people if I do it.  Scared of the pain I'll cause myself if I don't.

I was talking to Pooja the other day about it, and she said that if I ever went through with it, she would be angry at me for a long time.  John said he'd always have a feeling of anger underneath the sorrow.  And I hate having people angry with me, but I wonder if living this half life, this mere existance, is worth it.

I know life is precious, life is short.  And I've been blessed that I almost feel bad for being the way I am, like I'm ungrateful or something.  I don't want to die just yet, but I don't know if I want to live like this anymore either.

Promita says I need to update, so I am.

The semester is going along smoothly.  Much more smoothly than I anticipated.

I'm seeing a new therapist, and I love her.  I feel so much better about myself, about things in general.  I went back to the high school to visit Ms. O'Connor and she could see the difference in me immediately, so yay for positive therapy sessions.

We figured out that I've been battling depression for the past few years.  That's YEARS, not WEEKS or MONTHS so anyone who wants to blame John for my depression (cough cough Mom&Jo cough cough) sorry to disappoint you.  She wants to put me on anti-depressants, but I really don't want to do that.  But I'm not slitting my wrists anymore, not taking PM Tylenol in hopes that I never wake up.  Still cry a lot, but hey... I try to blame as much of it as I can on PMS.

Hmm... I can't believe I'm a senior in college already.  Time flew by so fast.  And this year seems soooo great.  I get to see John every week, I get to see my friends at work, I have an incredible roommate, and I've met some really cool (and really hot ) people in my classes this year.  I'm still at Things Remembered, so yay for that.  I've officially been at employee at TR's for over a year now between SmithHaven and Roosevelt Field.

Yeah... midterm tomorrow...

It's gonna be a long semester.  Five english classes (4 of them upper division).  Working at Things Remembered at Smith Haven and Roosevelt Field.  And Rec.  And Indian classes.  And Saturday rec.  When is summer vacation.

At least things are better so far.  I have an awesome roommate.  Avi lives in the building next to me, so I go bug him all the time.  And I have class with Pro and Manny, so YAY!!!  Started therapy with a new psychologist who says I'm going to get worse before I get better which I guess is never fun but hey, StonyBrook therapy is free.

Thinking of deleting xanga because I never have anything to say.

Still alive.

Entry to come eventually.