Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The Diary of a Relatively Newly Depressed Nutcase

I keep on pushing people away from me. Isolation. Except for three or four good friends, who I keep close because I can't imagine parting from them. I used to think that was because I didn't want to care about people. I used to think it was because I'm selfish and I didn't want to spend time on people- I was already spending enough time with the friends I had.
Then I thought it was because I couldn't bare to lose anyone else. You know, the more people you care about the more likely it is you'll lose more of them as well. If one in ten dies; if you have twenty friends, you could lose two. I guess that's partly true. However today I've realised another reason for that.

And this one is the most selfish of all.

When Josh passed away, when I lost the person who was most important to me, I saw 50-75 people who were outraged and sad. 20 or so who were devastated, and at least 11 whose lives literally stopped and began a warped, fucked up spiral up and down and sideways, a sort of constant never-changing state of chaos and confusion and anger and all-round-fuckery. At least 1 of them, I, can be considered depressed, relatively alone, and certifiably insane.
Anyway, I don't want that to happen to anyone. When I die, and I'm not saying it will be soon, but when I die I want to minimize the amount of people who will be devastated. Just my family- father, brothers- and those three or four friends. And because there are so few of them, no one will be left to go through that alone.

See, I told you it was selfish.