This morning sort of took off where last night left off.

On a random note, I also woke up from a dream where I had Cousin Ashley yelling at me during her upcoming wedding. She was saying that I needed to curb my attitude and words, because not everyone knows me and can understand my humor the way it is implied. Weird.

Shortly after waking up, I made a very depressed drive to Dr. Cohen’s office for my annual physical. That’s when last night’s suicidal thoughts returned. I was stopped at a red light, and looked out my window to an old age home across the street.

What the fuck is the point of everything? Even if you do find love, one of you is going to die and leave the other one alone. Or, you work your whole life to make money to pay bills, only to end up in some lame fucking town in the middle of nowhere, at a raisin ranch where they change you twice a day. And it all happens as you live out an existence smaller than a grain of sand, in a world that is slowly killing itself. What’s the point? What is the fucking point?

The wait at Dr. Cohen’s office was tolerable. I could tell he was in a rush, but I made sure to cover all of my concerns during the appointment. I didn’t tell Dr. Cohen about my recent suicidal thoughts, but we talked about my depression and the fact that the anti-anxiety meds he prescribed me haven’t done much to help my situation. The result of today’s appointment was Dr. Cohen upping my current Xanax prescription, and writing me out a new one.

I now hold a year-long prescription for an anti-depressant. I asked a lot of questions – to both Dr. Cohen and the pharmacist who filled my prescriptions – and I think it’s something I’m going to try.

“Think.”

As if I didn’t crack open the orange prescription bottle a few hours after getting it.

I also swallowed one of my new Xanax pills before I even left the pharmacy parking lot. I’m hoping these new medications will make a difference. Apparently, it’s going to take four to six weeks to see any sort of major shift with the anti-depressant. That being said, although I did take the pills fairly soon after getting them, they’re not something I want to be on for a long time. However, I also don’t want to think about killing myself on a daily basis, either.

When I finally returned to Casa Z, I quickly scarfed down some food. The Store had asked me to come in early today, so I ended up working 2 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. It was tolerable. Although, I think I’ve just started to mentally escape as soon as I pass through the door. I’m always on my phone.

I barely talked to Bryan again today. I’m probably going to end things with him by the end of this week. I’ll have to call him. Obviously, it’s not going to be fun. But, I don’t want to keep Bryan hanging on like this. He’s probably catching on. When I did text with Bryan today, I told him that I had a shit day. I’m sure he knows something is up.

You know, it’s weird. I never thought that my, “I’m going through some stuff right now,” break-up excuse would ever be 100% honest. Yet, here I am. I hope these new pills work. I also hope something comes along in terms of work. Or, at the very least, something that will make me happy.

All night, Connor, Dan, and Evan were texting in our group chat about Evan’s birthday night, which is almost two months away. They want to purchase $25 tickets to go to a gay rave at Fly nightclub. Aside from me not wanting to set foot in that club since the night Katya and I did bad MDMA there, I simply don’t want to spend $25 on a rave. Also, what if I want to take a trip that weekend? It’s so far away.

Given my hesitation, I remained silent in the group chat. Eventually, the boys called me out for not responding to the messages, and I told them that I wasn’t committing to anything. I don’t think Evan was too happy about that. Whatever.

I’m out of fucks to give. I don’t want to pretend as though I’m interested in that shit anymore. I’m sorry, but don’t plan your birthday night at a gay rave and expect everyone to be 100% on board. That’s all happening around Pride, too. Truth be told, I don’t even know if I want to be here for Pride this year. Sometimes, I just want to disappear.

When I got home from work tonight, I felt like I was really good with Mom and Dad. Friendly, even. I scurried upstairs to my bedroom right away, but I have to work early tomorrow morning. I felt like that was a legitimate excuse.

That about does it for tonight, world. Let’s try it again tomorrow.

Goodnight xo