Still standing

At the risk of sounding negative It’s one of those days where it’s hard to get out of bed. A change is coming and I’ve been knowing it would come and dreading it but it’s coming or already here and I’m frustrated at myself for not being better prepared for it. Last night I was so much at sixes and sevens that I had to go to Walmart for tequila. TEQUILA. As a general rule I normally stay very far away from tequila because it’s nothing pretty in the morning and it tastes like shit. But this was raspberry and the second I took my first shot I thought oh fuck, I’m in trouble. That shit was delicious. But it was for nothing-I couldn’t get drunk, and I took about five or six good sized shots. What’s even more exhausting than this depression is the anger and frustration I feel at being like this. I feel like one of those emo girls who are never happy, and that’s not true. Very simple things make me very happy. Those girls used to drive me crazy because they’re such a drag, man. And now I feel like one of them, so much to the point where I’d rather not be around anyone I like because I don’t want to bring them down. Furthermore, I don’t need or want the anxiety that comes attached to wondering, “Does this person think I’m a goddamn drag?” So it’s this vicious, snake eating snake cycle-I can’t go anywhere without a ghost being there too, I can’t be alone because I think too goddamn much, and I can’t be around other people without feeling ashamed and guilty. I can’t spend all day in bed because I have a dog to keep alive and a job to attend and bills to pay, and I may be depressed but I’m also kicking my ass out of bed every time I go lay down because I’m not going to be that girl. Not all the way. I wanted to go to the cemetery this morning but figured there was no point. Good thing I have a movie to go to. Tomorrow I’m forcing myself to leave my apartment and go to my Mom’s. Goddammit, I’m trying. I’m fucking trying.