So, I've been stuck in a rut for a while now. I know that I've always had a problem with depression, but I'd gotten a lot better with it in the last year knowing that the occasional spell here and there would be a normal occurrence for anyone. The problem is that this spell does not seem to be shaking off.

I've been feeling lonely the last two months, and I feel like I used to feel which is not good. I'm having a harder time combat it like I know I can in which I just remember it's all okay. Lately, it's not really all that okay.

I'm a 24 year old loser with a useless Bachelor's, and no skill to put it to use. I still live at my moms, and I've got one friend whom....I haven't figured out if I really like him or if I'm just keeping him around for my own means. One such means is we're getting an apartment hopefully in the coming month. I can't get one on my own, but someone else can help get one.

I think maybe I'm just so used to having dark thoughts, that I think I would only keep someone around for a personal gain. Honestly, I do like Tim. He's very supportive and doesn't judge in the least bit; we literally have all the same interests  so I don't know why I have a hard time enjoying his friendship. I do enjoy it, but there's always a bit of length I keep and I suppose you really can't blame me.

Personally, I think having an apartment will have a great boost on my mood; I will be able to cut my mom out of my life for once and for all. I will be free, and away from outside influences. Most people will say "Oh, sure, but what about the bills and such?" And really, it's those type of people who I'd love to get away from, people that pretend to worry about my position for drama's sake. And then there are people like that who really do worry such as my dad. And really, I just don't see myself connecting with my family in the future, nor do I want to.

I really did want a relationship with my dad, and he, without really knowing it, pushed me away. And you know me, I prefer to let people figure things out than tell them they're hurting me. You'd think telling them would help, but really, no one cares. And I guess I don't, either.

I found out Evan is being divorced. A mutual friend has started working at Sears with me, and I talked to her about things. I can't help but feel glad, like there has been justice. This person who hurt me is now in pain over what hurt me. It doesn't sound like he wanted the divorce and he was always sensitive. I think about how much this much hurt him, and I just become glad.

He left me over a girl who's divorcing him; how Shakespearean.

I have a confession. I would tell myself I write on here for me, and because it helps. Honestly, though, I always felt like I was writing for someone else, like a particular person was reading this, waiting for me to post again. It's pathetic, but I guess it's how I coped with losing Alex, too.

I recently discovered there's a way on here to see when someone has viewed this blog, but no one has looked. I've been alone this whole time while trying to convince myself that I'm not.  I guess there's no escaping the reality of things even when you think you've come to term with it.

The signs are there. I've had plenty of chances to talk to and meet new people. I instinctively turned them all away without a second glance, and it's a cold feeling. When I write these things, I feel like I'm seeking attention, and I guess really, I am. I wrote these things telling myself someone was reading it and saying to themselves, "This poor soul."

I am stuck on 16, and I haven't really grown up in maturity. I still live in my head, and I become a meaner person on a weekly basis.

I would still like to move to Seattle, but I think there would be no grand restart. Wherever you go, your damage follows.