This seems to be a trend already. That every last week of month, depression lurks in. I thought it’s just PMS (pre-menstrual symptoms, blame the hormones going haywire). I tend to hate myself, how lousy it has been, and wants to strangle it for not doing “hard” enough. And i feel useless that my living adds no meaning to the world, I might as well tie a rope around my neck and hang myself. Turn the lights off, Play some emo music in the background, avril lavigne is that you?!?
Maybe partly due to PMS but I realized now that maybe because it’s end of the month when “working” takes toll, and add in the uneasiness when looking at the the to-do list, nothing much has moved. Maybe it’s what Mark has been reciting over and over again as “productive paranoia” minus the productive.
And, it’s like “i’m a teenage dirtbag, baby.”
Hello, self! Here we are again.
