I'm really sorry, guys; I feel as though all I do on here now is rant about how shitty I'm feeling. The truth is that I've been having a couple of really bad days; days where I absolutely loathe myself for no reason, and consequently doubt why anyone would give a crap about me or anything I have to say. Deep down I know there's little logic or reason behind how I'm feeling, but depression sucks and has no need for reasons so... yeah. I feel like shit right now.

Oh, and according to psychology, I'm technically suicidal as well. Wonderful. I'd never have the courage to actually take my own life, don't worry about that, but... I have had thoughts where I've wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. Or if a lorry was speeding towards me, I'm not entirely sure I'd jump out of the way. Apparently the diagnosis is a single thought about either harming or killing yourself. I didn't even realise that normal people never went down these avenues of thought, because, truthfully, I've been going down them occasionally for a good few years now.

I guess all I can do is try to learn how to recognise the very beginnings of these negative thoughts I have and nip them in the bud. The problem is, sometimes it isn't in my control. Sometimes I have a bad day (like yesterday) where events aren't my fault. Yesterday, it was pissing it down all day, and while I was in work I had a terrible migraine. I had to force a smile while customers asked me literally the same question every time (everybody's after those onesies - one-piece sleepsuit things - now, but we don't have any in), and then after walking back to the train station in the pouring rain with a throbbing headache, Dad wasn't able to pick me up at the station like he said he would (because, surprise surprise, Auntie Marianne kept him way longer than she agreed to), and I had to walk even further, with heavy shopping bags. And that's what kicked off my bad episode.

And... bloody hell, I don't know how to say this without sounding like the clingiest, neediest person ever... I tend to start on my downward spirals when Jason doesn't text me all day, or if he wants to spend time we'd usually have together with his friends. I've always had self esteem issues and sometimes when he doesn't contact me all weekend it makes me feel like he doesn't care about me. And then I feel bad about feeling bad, and things just go downhill from there.

But why would he even be with me if he didn't care about me? Even if he didn't care and just didn't know how to dump me, he'd be acting different. And he isn't. He's still all over me when we're together, telling me he loves me, telling me I'm gorgeous... it is just all in my head.

I hate being depressed so much. And I hate that society makes legitimately depressed people feel bad for feeling the way they are. I hate that there are people out there suffering like me, or even worse, who are reluctant to say anything because they worry they'll be told they're 'just feeling a little bit down', or that nobody will even hear them out to begin with.

But most of all I can't stand the people out there who think being depressed is 'cool' and 'edgy'. What the hell is cool about feeling unable to get out of bed in the morning? What's so cool about feeling those dark, overwhelming, terrifying emotions tightening like a vice around your throat? What is cool about being a helpless slave to your own unfortunate brain chemistry? Nothing. Seriously. I'd rather be the happiest dork in the world than put up with another minute of this.

For those who haven't yet clicked the cut, don't worry, I'm not going to commit suicide. Considering I'm a coward, and that I have friends, family, a fiance and a novel to write, suicide would be pretty illogical for me.