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Just four days ago, I finally broke down.
Here's everything that had happened four days ago. I know it might sound like not much of a big deal to you guys, but to me... I don't know what to feel anymore. I don't know what to say. I've run out of words to describe how terrible I felt that day. It's been a fucking hell.
So here: despite my distress, I was forced by my peers and teachers to participate in a school contest, or else I'll fail all my primary subjects, which contributes a lot to the pressure. The contest I joined requires its participants—me and my team of writers and fellow artists—to make and design a small newspaper or something under 4 hours. There a three teams in total, two of whom we'll be competing with, and all are as equally good as us. Whoever wins will get a reward and will advance to the next stage of the contest, which will probably take place somewhere outside the city.
So here's what really happened during the contest proper.
I wanted to be a part of the writing team because you guys know I have quite a knack at it, but since I was the only one who knows design stuff very well, I instead got the role of the artist. While the writers wrote and the artists drew, I sat there and toiled in front of my laptop for straight 5 hours, non-stop, clicking the mouse, working my brain and squeezing out all my creative juices (which I got plenty of that time) until I'm all dry.
Then it was break time. Most of us got to eat their afternoon lunch, cooked food and all; and I was completely envious, because you know what I ate during the whole 5 hours of my ordeal? A small piece of bread. A small piece of fucking bread. I was plenty aware my hunger would take toll on my performance, but I just went with it and did my stuff.
Things finally got worse when it's time to go home. It was raining very hard. Traffic was heavy. People was everywhere, waiting for buses. Under the rain, me tired and borderline depressed, my umbrella almost broken, I waited for an hour or two to hitch a ride. It was practically the worst evening of my life.
Then when I got home, I didn't even bother to eat dinner, because my body felt so weak and so numb. My mother didn't mind, thankfully, but her worry was evident. I wanted to eat, really, after all the hell I've been through that was like the second thing I want to do (sleep was first) but I barely had the energy to even lift my finger, much more lift my body. So I just gave the food a finger and hit the bed. And on my pillow I bawled my eyes out, quietly enough that my parents or my sister didn't hear. I cried all the negative energy out of me until I fell asleep.
I slept for 14 hours. When I woke up, I still felt like shit, but considerably better than yesterday evening.
So my classes have been suspended for a week now due to heavy rain and floodings, which I'm very grateful for honestly. The last four days, I just relaxed myself on my bed and sofa, chilled on the internet, read my book (I just began read Neal Stephenson's Reamde—great read so far) and wrote some horror-thriller stuff (which I teased on my profile page, apparently). I'm happy to say that I feel okay now. Maybe not okay enough that I'd come back here, but at least okay.
It's all that matters, right?
And to SnakeTongue: I've read your blog, man. Certainly, that's one of the most terrible real-life stories I heard from you. Just like you, I'm actually quite a weirdo on my school (mostly because of my introvert and geeky demeanor) but at least my classmates and other students like me because—at least according to them—I am good company (chill man, I'm not trying to make you feel envious or something).
But seriously Snakey, what the hell is wrong with people around you? Just because you have long hair and you always wear metal shirt you're automatically a Satan-worshipping asshole or something? I mean, I know stereotypes like this populate the whole fucking planet—and trust me, their numbers are exploding sky-high—but why are they so quick to judge you? You're quite a freaky dude here, that everyone knows, but everyone—and you—just don't deserve to be isolated from the rest of the world because of your attitude, likes, dislikes, fears, fucking et cetera. I mean, biodiversity right?
(That last part was a joke, in case you didn't understand.)
But Snakey, one thing that I don't like to see or hear of is you harming yourself. C'mon man, self-loath and self-harm won't do you and your family any good at all. I know that's how most depressed people express their anger and frustration, but... it just doesn't seem right. Oh, it's not right actually? Not only you're damaging yourself—mentally and physically—but it also damages everyone who cares for you. Have you ever imagined the feeling they get every time they see those scars on your wrist? The wounds you inflicted on yourself? The slow, painful degeneration of the real you? The hatred and loathing you've failed to keep at bay? The social isolation you've suffered from? And the hole in the wall?! I've never personally witnessed such scenarios, nor that I want to, but deep inside... I know all these.
So Snakey, I don't have much time left, so I'm gonna sum this up: Stay safe, man. Don't let your hatred consume you. Don't isolate yourself from your friends and family and from yourself; in the end, they will be the only thing you have to treasure. DON'T FUCKING HARM YOURSELF AGAIN! And most of all, if you need a shoulder to lay your head upon, we're here for you.
Chill man. I can feel you.
After pretty much trying to piece together what's left of my willpower (and my sanity, as well), I figured out you guys deserve some small update as to how I'm doing recently. Welp, I feel much much better than I did a few days back. Things are still going downhill, truth be told, but at least I got to slow down the descent... And because of that, I am able to write this update. Nothing huge, just tidbits of information about my current condition.
Still very far from achieving sufficient amount of sleep (I sleep like 4-5 hours every day, roughly half of what youngins like me need), and tonloads of school activities is the primary cause of this irregularity. I have been trying my very best to chill myself down and take all my schoolwork easily, but I, most of the time, find myself unable to do that—my schoolwork is like a computer bug: you get rid of one bug and two new bugs appear. If that makes any sense to you, that is.
School is also the main reason why I'd become... somewhat mentally unstable. I feel so "distant" from my normal self like 24/7. I feel light-headed too often. And most of all, the root of my damned writer's block, I find myself unable to focus on several things (writing, for instance). Thankfully, this mental instability has been gradually subsiding—mostly with the help of video games and novels—but I'm still not sure how long this will remain. I fear it might actually get worse and worse as school takes on another level (this is simply the first stage of my suffering; three more stages to go through.)
But, just as it have always been, I need to deal with it, regardless of how much I dislike or fear it. There's pretty much nothing I can do about all this, except get all the shit done...
But on a positive note, I'm damn sure this writer's block should be gone a week or two from now. Although I won't be making any activity in the Wiki, for reasons I stated above, I'll still snoop in every day or two to update myself on what's happening in this place. I haven't began writing any stories on the collab project also, but I'm sure I'll start planning things tomorrow. The writing process might take me longer than usual, but but but I'll get to it sooner or later.
Wish me luck, guys. Thanks for your concern. I love ya'll!
You guys might have noticed how sparse my activity has become in the Wiki. And I have a reason to offer: I'm fucked up, physically, mentally and emotionally. I have abused my mind and body too much. I haven't told anyone this, but I've been suffering from weeks of academic fatigue, writer's block and creative exhaustion. I feel dissatisfied with my life. I feel weak all the time. I feel unenthusiastic towards things I used to like. Nothing seems to lift my spirits. I can no longer write and create art...
I'm sick of my life.
I'm sorry if this is too sudden or if this sounds melodramatic, but if keep up with this unhealthy lifestyle of mine, I'd mostly end up in psychiatric hospital. No jokes at all. Sorry guys, but I'm taking a break, guys. I need to rest.