Diary of a Madman | Teen Ink

Diary of a Madman

May 13, 2015
By booklion17 PLATINUM, Wind Lake, Wisconsin
booklion17 PLATINUM, Wind Lake, Wisconsin
42 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
&ldquo;Libraries were full of ideas&ndash;perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.&rdquo; <br /> ― Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass<br /> <br /> &ldquo;No. I can survive well enough on my own&mdash; if given the proper reading material.&rdquo; <br /> ― Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass


Diary of a Madman

Monday 12/5
It’s almost Christmas. There’s holiday spirit everywhere, people seem happy at least, maybe even joyful if you look closely. I have yet to be infected with the seasonal cheer. All I see is inches of snow piling up as the temperature drops, hours of sunlight shorten with each passing day. So Whats to be so happy about? At seventeen I’m much too old to believe in Santa. Working part time at Mcdonalds doesn’t really pay for fancy gifts for my friends or family. So christmas at this point isn’t lifting my spirits as much as it once did. I’ll spend the holiday season with some coffee, some novels, and my thoughts. Most likely the unpleasant, unwelcome ones.

Tuesday 12/6
I will never understand other kids my age. I will never understand the non-chalant way they socialize, chit chat, and interact with each other. I can’t understand the energy they have, or the confidence, or how such seemingly nice people can be so cruel. I have to fight to drag myself out of bed, get dressed, and drive myself to school. That process is so exhausting by itself. Getting to class, paying attention, and simply not falling asleep is like trying to nail jello to a tree. Once I’m home, I have no energy for socializing, sports, chores, homework etc. I’m not really sleeping either though. Sleeping requires laying in bed alone with my thoughts. Not an appealing offer. So I sit and write this journal and listen to music and try not to cry until the exhaustion inevitably wins out.

Wednesday 12/7
Is there anything worse than being replaced? I don’t know. I know that I’m crazy. I know that I’m depressed and struggle with twisted thinking but I am nothing if not an amazing actress. I may not be a social butterfly but I am utterly devoted to being a good friend, even on my darkest days my closest friends NEVER know what I’m really thinking. I like it that way. So I don’t understand why they stopped texting me, calling me, and started taking this other girl to our favorite places. It sucks to never be wanted at all, I know because I’ve felt it. But I think it might be worse to be wanted for a long time, and then, not. It’s like giving a kid a candy bar and then taking it away after the first bite. Except it’s worse. Much worse.

Thursday 12/8
Today was the kind of day that makes me wonder what’s worth caring about and what isn’t. An existential crisis kind of day. Going through my classes all I could think was… none of this makes any difference. What am I doing sitting in Algebra class when there are homeless people I could be helping, joy I could be bringing to people that need it. What if I die in a tragic car accident tomorrow, and I leave no mark on this world because I was too busy doing sentence patterns. My own life is already messed up, the least I could do is help someone else who still has a chance at happiness. That would be a lot more meaningful than what I’m doing now anyways.

Friday 12/9
God I hate Friday nights. At least during the week I have things to distract me from the tsunami of self inflicted insults that I can’t stop from crashing into me. All I have tonight is me, myself, and I. So I just accept it. It’s too tiring to fight anymore. It’s infinitely easier to accept my own judgements as gospel truth than try and change it. That would require effort and energy I’m just not willing to expend. Maybe someday I’ll fight for my happiness, but tonight is not that night. I’m just going to take a really long shower, see if I can melt away the pains of the day. I won’t succeed.


The author's comments:

While some of these entries are from personal experience, This is a piece that i wrote for my AP psych class to emulate a person struggling with a mental illness. 


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