The past few days have been completely empty. I haven't communicated with a single soul since last Monday morning. No grocery clerks, no cashiers, no phone calls, no e-mails, no frivolous internet chats, nothing. I haven't left my apartment since Monday either. The worst times are when I'm home and I feel like I have absolutely nothing to do. It makes me feel like cracking my skull open. But this is not uncommon for me. Depression paralyzes me. In my judgment there's nothing out there worth going to. People constantly tell me, "Get out, go for a walk, do something." Sorry, I will not go out just for the sake of going out. If I do things, I do them for a substantive reason, and most often to produce a tangible effect. If I go out and take a walk, it may not cause any changes in me at all, I may not feel any better, and it certainly won't cure my depression. "It might," you may say, but that means that I would need luck, and luck has abandoned me long, long ago.

Even writing this feels like a chore. The only reason I'm bothering with this is that it would be such a waste in the event that I do end up committing suicide and all that happens is that I just become another anonymous statistic. People who commit suicide always, always do it for a reason. Nobody is born suicidal (at least, not that I'm aware of). I'm fucking tired of hearing news stories of suicides where the person's acquaintances say things like, "Oh, but he was such a nice guy. I have no idea why he would kill himself." "He always looked so happy. Everything seemed to be going for him. I just don't understand it." There are things that people never share with anyone, problems that they never share with anyone, and most importantly, pain and suffering that they never share with anyone. The reasons for this are their own; they vary from person to person. How do I know this? Because I'm one of them. People who see me, and even those who think they know me very well, would believe that there's nothing wrong with me. In fact, it wouldn't even occur to them that I was depressed and suicidal because of the happy façade I put on whenever I interact with people.

If I end up turning myself into worm food, I want there to be something, some kind of record that will survive me of what led me to take my own life, of the portion of the unimaginable pain and suffering that I can translate into words, and possibly, of the psychological mindset behind it. During the time that I am alive, if I want to survive, I have to believe that my actions still have meaning. I have to believe that writing this journal makes a difference –- that even among the innumerable blogs, journals, diaries, and other web pages on the internet, none of them have the unique combination of words that are written here. I have to believe that the world is slightly different, and hopefully, slightly better off because of the words I write here, as opposed to a world where they were not written. These words were written by an individual whose existence is recorded in human history, without whom these words would never exist, even if they are never read and cause no observable effect on the world at large.

I am getting professional help. I have been for the past eleven years, and I still want to blow my head off. If nothing else, I'm going against my better judgment and writing this in the hope that some future psychologist may possibly analyze and detect the method behind my madness, and perhaps save some other individual from suicide. Because I'm not the first person to commit suicide, and I certainly won't be the last one.

Dynasty Warriors 3 (DW3)
Well, that was exhausting. I'll try a lighter topic. Right now I'm going to down a burger and fries at McDonald's (those of you who are perceptive will notice that I am not even close to following a diabetic meal plan, nor do I care). After that I'm going to go play DW3 on my Playstation 2. I should explain.... I play this video game religiously. It is also the only game I play on my PS2, or on any other system for that matter. I've played it several hours a day, almost every day of the week since it first came out way back in 2001. It's a completely irrational and freakish fixation, something that alone warrants a visit to a mental health professional. In fact, early last year I had a two-month stay at a psychiatric ward, and since I obviously couldn't play any video games I felt like I was actually suffering withdrawal symptoms from not playing the game in such a long time. When I got out, during the first few minutes of my first game back I felt an intense, euphoric rush.

I love this game. It's even beyond love, it's kind of a way of life. It's one of the few things left I still get any pleasure out of, and it's one of the only things keeping me going and preventing me from committing seppuku. I've always loved games of this genre, ie. martial arts / kung-fu fighting. I wish I could write games like this. There are several things I find so compelling: 1) you never play the same game twice, 2) it gives you the illusion of a very large playing area, and 3) there are elements of military strategy involved, which has always been something that turns me on. :)