Yup. August is now gone.
Current status: breaking down.

[!] - Might be a long read.

August was a ride full of emotions.
I befriended, re-encountered, and distanced myself from different kinds of people; online and offline.

My one-week vacation ended.. August 1st was the day I returned to college.

Remember my last post? I downloaded and re-played a game. Sometimes I'm happy I did that, but sometimes I regret it. I know it gave me joy and was my escape from reality, but I was just so comfortable with such fantasy that once I had to return to college, my body and mind began to deteriorate.

I no longer go to class every day. I'm partially exempt on Monday classes (I only have to hand in a report once per month), no class at all on Tuesdays, and full time class Wednesdays to Fridays. However-


I cried again. I felt like skipping classes, specially those on Wednesdays because the teacher is the same one I had at the class I withdrew myself from. Every Tuesday nights I get depressed, anxious and have mental breakdowns. I don't even sleep because I feel troubled so I look for someone I can talk to. But who's online late at night? Only internet friends. But, that isn't enough. Typing and speaking are two different things, and they obviously feel different.

There was this one night that I couldn't sleep, I was having a really bad breakdown. I cried and cried, and even though there was someone trying to make me feel better, it was no use. Because whatever I typed was not truly what I wanted to say. I'm okay, don't worry. I'll be fine.. Was I though?
I was terrified, feeling demotivated to do anything at all. My dark thoughts came back again and again. I'm useless. I don't deserve to live. I thought it was time. I ditched my phone, my laptop... anything that would allow me be contacted by anyone. It was already morning. I threw myself to my bed, pulled my blanket covering my whole body and I began to desperately cry.
I didn't want to wake my brother up. In order to do that I had to clench my hands and hold them tightly against my lips, all while endlessly crying. It keeps hurting me every time I recall that moment. After all, that was last week.

But you see.. that someone didn't give up on me. They didn't stop messaging me, and seeing that I wasn't responding, they called me regardless of previously telling them that I wouldn't answer calls. I wanted to answer that call but I was scared. I was scared that I'd breakdown even more. I was scared that my voice might break and no words would come out. I was scared that my brother might be awaken by me talking/sobbing to someone I haven't even met. While my phone was vibrating, I would only whisper to myself "Please.. don't do this, it hurts me. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry." and they actually stopped. I waited for my brother to take off to work so I could scream and cry, to let everything out. And also, deep inside, I hoped for that call again..

Not only was class that got me depressed, but a classmate. I felt used. They'd talk to me and ask me stuff when they selfishly needed it. But when I needed their help, they turned their backs to me. I thought we were friends, but..

I won't tell any further, otherwise the pain will be bigger. I still do get hurt by my anxiousness. To calm myself down, I've been watching movies with another person I've been talking to online. He's been nice to me, been positive to me and shared his past with me. Yesterday he even told me to smile. We weren't even talking about anything sad in the first place. He just said "Smile." and a tear fell down my cheek. I laughed it off, unable to understand why the sudden tear.. it just happened. My soul was crying.

I just want to say that: no matter how I reply back, typing doesn't really tell how I'm feeling. I might tell you that I'm sad, but I could actually be frustrated or upset and not just sad. I might tell you that I'm fine.. that nothing's wrong with me, when in fact I feel like dying. Because for some reason I can't be honest, except here on my journal page. However, when I say thank you, I really mean it.

I'm such a crybaby.

Even now, I'm crying. I used to be someone who didn't get sad this often, someone who laughed it off, someone who never thought of suicide as a possible way. I think I've lost my identity. I'm "unknown' now. That, who lost the motivation to live.

Thank you, to the people who were there for me on August. To those who talked to me first because they knew that I am too scared and shy to start a conversation. To those who talked to me but no longer do so and to those who still do. I apologise that you had to cope with me but even so, thank you.

It's September 1st, I hope everything changes for good.