It’s six in the morning and I’m still awake. I only wrote an entry, the first after months of being incognito, just a couple hours ago. I can’t sleep; I haven’t been able to get an early night’s sleep in a while now. Every time I come home from work I wake up bright and early in the morning and go to bed at a reasonable hour. And then it turns in to this before the month ends, and I wind up pulling an all-nighter so I can get back on track for another round of sailing.

I went out to Metro at 5 am because I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping, and I had a craving for Pomegranates. I got there and after looking around the pathetic selection of tropical fruits, I finally found them in a bin hiding behind the mangoes. When I think of pomegranates I think of a fruit the size of a medium grapefruit. These pomegranates were the size of plums, and they were $1.99 each. What!? I didn’t end up buying any, so I got McDonald’s instead – the obvious alternative. I was going to buy a box of shredded wheat because I randomly remembered how good those whispy rectanglular bundles were when Mom used to make them for me as a kid, soaked in milk and coated in sugar. But at $4.99 a box, I decided it wasn’t worth it. I don’t understand why the healthier options have to be 2-3 times more expensive than the crap when the government, health professionals, advertisers, news outlets and every magazine on the planet want you to adopt the diet of a bird. I know I’m not saying anything nobody else already knows, but the financial situation in most households right now is in dire straits and I don’t think those of us teetering on the poverty line feel like something as cheap and plentiful as wheat can possibly be worth $5 a box, let alone actually go nuts and splurge on it.

Anyway. I bought soy milk, pears and creme brule flavoured coffee and came home. While I was in the car I started crying. I’ve been feeling down and depressed for some time now. I’m a silent sufferer of it. It’s not severe, and it’s usually remedied by things that keep me busy or which bring me enjoyment… like work (remarkably). But being home gives me plenty of time to think about stuff and this last month has been particularly brutal. It might be a seasonal thing, but regardless I’ve been feeling out of my element and it’s hard to deal with it alone. Depression isn’t something you can share with anyone. I don’t talk about it to my parents. I don’t really talk about it with my family. The only two people who have ever seen the real, raw me at my worst are my two best friends because they’re always there for me and they always know just what to say. But one is 2000 miles away, and the other is occasionally farther away than that, but never within close enough range anyway. It just sucks. I think that’s part of the problem. My best friends aren’t around and I feel like I have no one to talk to. It’s ok to talk to them on the phone, but sometimes you need them there to lay beside you and watch movies with, and generally keep you distracted by keeping you laughing and doing what best friends do.

I cry all the time, and sometimes I don’t even know why. Sometimes there are so many things I’m crying about that it’s hard to pick which one is bothering me the most. I’m awake all hours of the night because I have so much on my mind that I can’t get to bed. I have to make up excuses when Mom and Dad call me out on sleeping all day, asserting that I want to take some gravol or something to help me sleep at a regular hour, but I never do. I’m broken-hearted and that makes dealing with everything else nearly impossible. Plus I think people know more about the reason behind my having to be broken-hearted than they let on. I really believe that people who know the situation and the guy involved know more about it than I do, and they won’t tell me. And it’s not fair, because after a year of being tormented I deserve to know. Maybe it’d give me some closure to help me move on.

My family depresses me too. Half of them live here in town and the only ones I see are my parents (and occasionally my brother) because nobody knows how to make a fucking effort anymore. My sister has problems of her own, and she’s so absorbed in her own selfish world that she shuts everyone else out. It’s like she thinks she’s the only one dealing with shit. Do you think she could call me every once in a while?

I need a change.

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