jasongallagher Member Profile

...See more I'm... Not sure how to say this, so I'm just going to ramble until I get everything in my head out, if that's ok? Im depressed. Have been for nearly 2 years. Yes, my family knows about it, but I've not shared how bad it is. Why I'm depressed... Is something I can't really answer. I can make guesses: Wasting 4 years of my life on a batchelors I felt was pointless because I would never use it, feeling that I'd never made any real impact on the world or ever done anything of merit, that all my decisions and accomplishments up to then were just stage managed and controlled by my parents, the fact I'm trapped in their house, unable to move out because they refuse to allow it (and the ridicule of friends who find this laughable, who think that I could just leave any time I wanted), fears of being unable to live in the real world, my aspergers..,, I don't honestly know what's caused it, and I could go on forever speculating. Because of it, I'm stuck, unable and unwilling to change, unable to find joy in things used to love doing. I'd wanted to be a writer of sci fi... Now I can't even write the first page. I'm overweight, to an unhealthy degree, but I'm content to be that way, content to just let it get worse till I die despite the tears and upset of my parents... And yet I blame them for it, thinking that "I'd want to live my life if I had one, if you let me leave, instead of trapping me, if you'd shown me how to live alone rather than control my life, if you hadn't criticised and nitpicked every attempt to exercise I've ever made, moaning that I'm "not putting enough effort in", so what is even the point if NOTHING will be good enough?". In a sick way, my depression has given me a purpose to my unhappiness; as long as I'm miserable in their "captivity" (despite the fact I know I could never survive on my own), then means something, but if I'm cured.., then I will be happy in my gilded cage... You, dear reader, probably can't understand what I'm saying, writing me off as "selfish and uncaring". Ironically, it's because I care that the main issue with my depression exists: I want to be depressed... Because I want to punish myself. My depression is known to my fiends. Many have tried and continue to try to help me. But because of it, I have become... Horrible to them. When the mood hits, I can be unreasonable, unpleasant, all manner of "un" words to them... And, as of time of writing, two of them refuse to speak to me anymore. And it depresses me. And makes me want to stay depressed. How will fixing me fix the damage I have done? What good will it do if people I care about have been hurt by my words? Why do I, the villain, deserve redemption after what I've done? I want to be depressed, because at least then, I'm being punished for hurting people I care about... Despite the fact I hurt the people I should care about - my parents - by remaining depressed. I care.., and yet I don't care. I don't want to be depressed... But I don't want to be cured after all I have done. That probably makes no sense, right? Any thoughts are welcome, but I warn you; It might be fruitless to try to help me. It's hard to be cared about if you don't care for yourself.

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