I left because I had a bff breakup. We'd met on here, years and years ago. We were probably both here since the beginning of bloop. The other party's friends began stalking me online, one in particular. Telling me to kill myself, knowing I have depression. Taking random tidbits from my diary here and beefing them up with lies before posting slander on other sites. I live with multiple chronic illnesses; I didn't have the emotional commitment to press charges or even find out who you were. The other sites required proof of legal action to take the slander down. One of them did not even have a block feature to prevent my stalker from accessing my content and sending me messages. It's probably all still there, telling me to die.
But, I need to write. I've always journaled as processing. I started in notebooks around age 12 until I realized my parents were reading them (and not saying/doing a damn thing about my suicidal ideation or plans to run away). I started journaling online. It was the prime time for teen online diaries. I ended up here- I think I was 16 or 17 when bloop started. I wrote here until I closed my old account two years ago. And I've been a mess ever since. Granted there are other factors, but it turns out I have little other effective coping skills outside writing. Which is basically me talking to myself about my life. I'm fine with doing so here. Here is comfortable and familiar and I've seen that at least one of my old friends is still writing. And if my stalker wants to hate follow me and jerk off to my sadness... ya know. We know what the sadder situation is in that scenario.
It's 1am and I can't sleep. So I made this diary instead. I'm hoping getting the ball rolling on this will help my mind settle a little (I have to get up at 6). Sleep is such a crucial part of living with my illnesses. I know I'm going to feel like shit tomorrow. But I already feel like shit, so I guess it's just a continuation of the same.
I've been so depressed for as long as I can remember. That's not true. I've been so depressed since 2008. I had a couple good years prior to 2008, but prior to that... I've pretty much always been depressed since I was a kid. I don't have hope of ever being not-depressed. But the other day, I had a revelation. Happiness isn't for everyone. It's not everyone's fate. For some people, it might even be impossible (people with low empathy or generally low emotional level). Maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm not meant to be happy. And I can accept that idea a lot easier than believing I could somehow achieve happiness (or even normalcy!) yet continually failing in my efforts.
Hey. I'm tired.
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