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I'm being depressed. Been brooding over the state of my life. Jane wants to put me on more fucking meds for all my problems. Everything is a big huge deal and my parents can't support me forever. I sometimes wonder why I feel the need to keep going when I know I can stop at any time. I guess the biggest reason is because I don't want to force my 'bill' onto anyone. Funeral costs are a bitch these days. I still have a couple things I want to do before I die too. They're all impossible things, but I would like to do them all the same. I want to be able to get married and have a kid even though I know it can't happen. Don't know anyone who would be ok with that.

I hate people. I really do. They're all so scary. If I could I would lock myself away in my room for the rest of my existence. Well, actually I could, but that would make for a very short rest of my life. I'm not a very social person, never have been and never planned on ever being one. And now that's all changing. Jane wants to put me on medication for it and I have to go out, grow up, get a life and a job. Interact with all the big scary persons out there. And I just can't do it. I freeze up and want to scream when I'm forced to say anything more than hi to someone I don't know. I panic. Like one day when I just wanted to take a picture of some random guy. I asked, explained and then I couldn't shut up. It made me want to hide under my seat and cry. I can't handle people. Online or in real life. *sigh* I suck.

And now my mum has just come in the house and started getting pissy at me. I left a candle burning up in my room and according to her I've just ruined my dresser. Fucking bitch. I hate myself. Why can't I just die like a normal person? I've lived too long already.

Picture of the day: Broken Puppet