incoherent ignorance

People think I'm so funny and i love that and it makes me sad that i look back on my blog and realize it is no longer funny, even though as a person i don't think I've stopped being as creative and playful. Now though most of the time i am alone and sad and i don't know how to handle it. Ive been through the whole depression thing before and i know that is a constant cycle of dips and highs and being elated from soaring feeling, the confident glowing feeling, a new medication gives you, and then the middle where you're just sort of floating and the end where your drowning, treading water, then dripping wet and cold you wonder into some clinic, full of sniffling children wiggling, their parent praying for a prescription of adderal so they can just calm down those children, those kids, and the doctor gives you some script for lexpro, vibryd, what ever new drug is on the market and says "let's see how that works for you". Usually they'll set you up with a therapist and in my case they can never find a reason for all the darkness i seem to hold. I'm  a true through and through case of clinic depression. I got depressed for the same reason people get cancer or type one diabetes, genetics, bad luck, medical mystery for the pure sake of medical mystery. They say theirs a link between alcoholic grandfathers and depression in his granddaughters.
There is no cure for depression. The only hope i have for a "normal" life not full of sleeping eighteen hours a day and crying spells and burst of angers filling the rest, along with devouring mountains of food trying to fill some hole inside me.

I'm definitely slipping of my floating phase into the drowning one. So I don't want you to take anything I say too seriously. I know when I need to find help again, what works for me, when to stop treading and wave for help, never to wave a white flag.

I know life isn't pointless as I have said in last blog. I'm just living pointlessly like this. I'm struggling for survival for what seems like nothing, because this struggle looks to have no end.

A fellow blogger ((Insert clever title here)) talked about the point of life in her blog. She talks of these shining moments in life, where she truly felt alive and, although she doesn't know what her purpose is, those moments tell her there is one. This made me feel so much better. Someone heard me and told me straight up in a place she knew I and other lost wonders on the Internet would find it that we are wrong.

I'm eighteen and I know nothing about life. I am but some spec in the universe who's been on it for less than a second of it's time and I am so wrong to try to explain it's meaning to anyone, let alone, assign it with none. Of all the years I've spent listening and in school and reading and watching, I still know nothing and that's fine.