Depression

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Depression kills, they said. However, mine does not. Yes, it shits my life dozens of times but no, it's not capable of killing me. It just motivates me, gives me bigger inspirations and provides me a greater boost of morale. A greater boost of morale to die, the bigger inspiration to kill myself, and the motivation to finally make an outline of my killing-myself-deed.

Actually, I'm not depressed. I am overreacting. In fact, I overreact every time a problem, even the tiniest sort, appears in my life. And I hate myself for that. I have been so used to complaining about everything that I grew up to become the whining bitch that I currently am.

See, the past few months have been the hardest months of my life -- a lot harder than it was in junior high. Everything was harder. Quizzes, projects, responsibilities, and worse, the people surrounding me. 

I am so not a stereotype and hasty-generalizer (yes, I'm passing a petition to add that word to Webster's) but I can't deny that four months of staying in this school have crafted me into one. Actually, let's not talk about that. Every statement I say against other people can be used against me sooooo... going back to the safe side!

Anyway, shit happens. Every single day. I've never had a real rest. EVER! Long weekends and holidays don't function like HOLIDAYS! They are basically I'm-still-giving-your-life-crap-more-importantly-because-it's-a-holiday. I am abused by life. I am never given rest. Ugggh okay, I'll admit it. I'm the one depriving myself rest.

I procrastinate so much when I could spend my time devising itineraries for the next day's problem-solving and assignment-doing. But I am not. My time is spent daydreaming of how much I want to rest when in fact I am causing myself to not have one.

The restlessness is still worth it, anyway. In my class, I top every subject's grades. I am one of SHS' quizzers (during the Intramural), I got the 1st rank on the Sci-Math spelling bee, every teacher from my campus' department knows me, I was handpicked to represent UM Davao Main for the Interbranch Essay Writing (which wrecks my nerves currently), I made my first every video (appreciated by my teachers), my class won the Zumba competition (led by me) against twelve other entries, and a lot more things I can't remember. Also, I have a 99 grade. IN PE! PE IS A BIG DEAL! 97 Math and Science which is quite disappointing. I expected way higher. Ugh I hate myself for being too proud and demanding.

Soooo. Biggest problem of the month. We have a project and that is to make wine. And what the hell do I know about making wines.?I'm no wine master. Why can't we just ferment yogurt? Why wine?! Another thing, we are going to make a brochure, and an ad video, and a concept paper, and I am going to speak a poetry, and I'm going to compete in an interbranch competition, and I am going to represent my strand for the spelling bee, and I am still going to face a lot of problems. Not just academically but household-wise as well.

As I can't go home every week because of the only-one-day weekend which is still not a weekend because of homework, I stay here at Davao to lament for the life I am living. No, actually I do homework, clean the apartment, and freaking do laundry! To be honest, laundry is such a small thing to worry about but not if your laundry is already 3-ft tall and 6-days old! You gotta be shitting me, life. Yes, you are shitting me. 

I normally do laundry every day to make life easier and just wash one set of clothes. But more often than not, every day is a busy day and I can't come home early because of practices and training for the interbranch competition, therefore, I am left to resort to just do laundry over the weekend and as of the moment, think of ways to die. 

I just did laundry tonight. 6 freaking days of laundry! 6 pairs! No, actually it's more than six pairs, my sleeping clothes included. What a shitty life I live (If you get a buck for every time I say "Shit", you're gonna be richer than Obama now)! My back hurts like shit (thousandth strike). T_T I'm so gonna call Mom right now and tell her to bring me back to Digos.

And to even worsen my already bad life, I can't rest tomorrow. The only day I can rest for the week and I am not given the opportunity. We're going to start the wine-making tomorrow. Early. And it's already deep into the night and I'm not sleeping yet because I'm writing this blog entry and I'm still going to clean my room, wash the dishes, and reorganize my school bag. Fuck me, right? Please please, lessen my burden and tell me of a story way more problematic and depressing than mine. Love you. 

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