I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing this. I guess the main reason is to express myself, as cliched as that sounds.

That's unusual, as expressing myself to others is something I'm normally very reluctant to do. I say normally, because there are occasions where, in some sort of desperate cry for help, I divulge entirely too much, laying out a bunch of deep, very personal feelings as some sort of burden for the unfortunate soul on the receiving end of the dialogue. So, yeah, pretty much exactly like this.

I think I do this sort of thing because, no matter how much I like to think otherwise, I'm still human. I still feel things, and have emotions, and while I try to pass myself off as stoic, or deaf towards that sort of...feely-ness, I'm not.

(As an aside, I briefly debated stopping writing at this point, because I'm already starting to sound too self absorbed, and too full of self-pity. And I hate myself for that. And I hate myself for the self-pity I feel for hating myself. And it just fucking goes on and on like that.)

And I realize it's foolish to have this "manly men can't have feelings" attitude, but whenever I'm honest with myself or with others about how I feel, I feel weak, and vulnerable, and stupid. Just that phrase itself, "how I feel", fills me with an almost instinctual revulsion.

It's another cliche, and not one that I necessarily believe is true, but when I bottle up these kinds of thoughts and feelings, it's like I become more and more isolated from everyone else. Lonely. And I start feeling so desperate in my loneliness that I spill my guts, like some sort of drunken confession.

A confession very similar to this blog post I'm writing. The main difference being that this post is decidedly more "stream of consciousness" than what I've written or said to specific people. Mostly because I usually am hypersensitive about not revealing too much, or coming off as too needy, or desperate, because I don't want to scare away the people I'm confiding in. Though I'm not entirely confident I do a good job of moderating that.

I've been meandering around for a while now, so I guess I'll just come the the main point of why I'm writing this. I saw this comic on reddit: http://i.imgur.com/U08Am.jpg

The title was "Living With Depression". It describes exactly how I feel almost every waking hour. Sure, there are moments where I'm laughing, or being entertained, or are otherwise absorbed in some form of escapism so I don't have to think, but the moment my mind wanders from what I'm trying to distract it with, this is exactly what happens.

At the same time, this just seems too convenient. How do I know I'm depressed? Sure, people tell me I show signs of it. I can relate to how other people describe it. But I just feel normal. And sure, normal for me is generally feeling terrible about my life, and myself, but I can't help but feel like it's my own fault, like I deserve it. Maybe the way I feel is the rational reaction to my actions and the situation I'm in.

I mean, I've had incredible opportunities. I'm fairly smart (or so people tell me), I'm white. I come from a middle class family that places a high value on education. I was (at least in elementary school) enrolled in honors courses, so I certainly had some of the best education in the area.

So why have I failed so miserably at everything I do? Why haven't I been able to produce a video in months? Why is almost every creative outlet I try to use lead absolutely nowhere? For fuck's sake, this blog was supposed to be a regular column where I reviewed video games and movies. There's one fucking review here that's amateurish at best, and then nothing else for years. It's the perfect commentary on my life.

And the thing is, as much as I would like this trail of failure and disappointment that is my life to be the result of depression, anxiety, ADHD, or some other disorder that can take the blame, I'm scared that in the end, it might be nothing more than just a character failing.

Maybe I am just a lazy, worthless person. People talk of motivation, and I've always wondered, where do they get it from? Do they just come up with it themselves? I know it's not supposed to be easy to do things that are hard, or things that you don't want to do, the kind of things that are necessary to succeed in life, but it all just seems too hard.

Is it really too hard, or are my expectations just out of whack? Am I unable to summon the motivation I need, or just unwilling?

I feel like the answer to that, if I ever figure it out, will determine if I deserve to live or not.

I mean, if it's depression or something, then it's not my fault. It can be corrected, and then maybe I can start to live the semblance of a normal life.

If it isn't some kind of disorder, then it's all my fault. I'll have wasted 21 years of not just my life, but the time, energy, and resources of everyone around me. That's 21 worthless years that have come to nothing, all because I've been unwilling to change, and continue to be unwilling to change, if I'm being honest with myself.

And if that's really the case, I can't justify my continued existence. And sure, killing yourself just because you don't want to put forth the effort to actually be an adult, and take responsibility for your life is pathetic, but I'm not going to let myself live like a parasite off of others, contributing nothing.

Besides, being pathetic is something of a theme for me these days.

(EDIT: And there's that self pity again right at the end. I would say I hate how melodramatic I am, but then this comment would just be ironic.)