I Have Every Right to be Miserable

I Have Every Right to be Miserable 


Just counting my minutes until I can leave, do I just hate this place or is it something more. Day by day I feel like I am just doing things as a means to an end rather than for any type of enjoyment. Just getting the hard shit done so I can live easy, but I know it can never be that way. This will probably be as easy as it gets and I'm sitting here on my floor sharing my misery despite my privilege. These "episodes" are probably more of a disposition rather than an effect of a bad childhood the worst that happened was my mother making everything into a fight. I have every right to be miserable but why, it's probably because I have nothing else to do. When I'm bored I just find a new way to make myself miserable for entertainment. I guess feeling something is better than feeling nothing.

1/4/25 11:39 pm

Note. This is about me hating my job and possibly having depression (I think I'm just bored) trying to get school and boring normal life out of the way so I can hurry up and be irresponsible and in a band. I have a family history of alcoholism which is probably linked to a family history of depression. Also me stewing in my own emotions to write shit like this to entertain myself. What's obvious is obvious.

Note pt2: I think this is the first entirely true entry

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