Today I’m too fucking depressed to write. I’m failing at everything else and I’ll fail at this. A snippet from a Velvet Underground song comes to mind: “Candy says, ‘I’ve come to hate may body and all that it requires..'”. Me too, Lou Reed, me fucking too! I require uppers to get me up enough but then I get too up and require downers to get me down again and again I’ll get too down. And depressed. And Anxious. And hating how my body looks, how my brain works, how my body and mind feels. I’m sad and sickened by myself. I’m a loser. I lie to the people I love about my substance abuse problems and I hate myself for doing it but I cannot fucking stop and a completely sober day – one without even Ritalin, mild sedatives, anti-depressant or a sleeping tablet – just petrifies me. I cannot cope with “life on life’s terms”. I fucking hate life! I don’t only hate my work, I suspect I’ll hate any work. Family life doesn’t suit me and I’d be dead if I were single. This existential angst! Life is so empty and meaningless. Now I’m sounding corny to myself as well! I can’t even enjoy hedonistic pleasures because I feel guilty about it. If I didn’t have family responsibilities I would now be seriously considering suicide. Why can’t I escape this fucked up cycle of my miserable existence? I hate…I’m sad…I’m angry…I’m scared. I don’t have the emotional capacity to phone a friend or reach out for help to some “safe” person – nobody feels safe to me. To live is to suffer – I’m sure this is a quote from some famous philosopher. Well I’m just living it right up baby! When you don’t have hope you might as well be fucking dead.