Crawling...

Oh, god. Last night I put myself to bed in order to escape doing anything else with myself. I felt icky. After coming home from an outing wiht B, I went over to R's and gave her Dostoevski's Crime and Punishment. I met Moe, which was uncomfortable because she's not cool with English and I'm not cool with Japanese. Oh, god, I have to call Kat tomorrow and bother her about Japanese. I'm sorry I collapsed on Thursday, I really didn't want to give you all the work. Anyway, being uncomfortable at R's was better than being home with my double-damned Father and my complex, confusing, off-putting Mother. By the time I took myself home again I was collapsing under my muddled thoughts. All I know is that I hate drugs. This is far more prominent in my dislike of illegal drugs, and the ones like alcohol and nicotine. I'm still not entirely comfortable with legal drugs like antidepressants, the ones that need prescriptions or that I can feel the difference after taking them, something beyond the relief of pain. But it's almost like antidepressants relieve a pain of sorts. There's a good rationalization. I hate how this THING keeps crawling back into my life even when I've done something about it, even when it seemed like it was almost gone, that I was free. Oh, how apropos, "Lean on Me".

Lean on me
When you're not strong
I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For, it won't be long
Till I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
Please swallow your pride
If I have faith
You need to borrow
For no one can feel
Those of your needs
That you won't let show.
....
We all need somebody to lean on.