Worse things can happen

It's funny. You would think that things get better after a while. But sometimes they get worse. Now I have no idea what to do with myself. Depression is taking hold of me and I can't even hide it away anymore. I was getting particularly good at hiding everything away but now I seem to be slipping. Those who know my father or who at least know of him, will know he is not the most emotional man, nor does he really care if you experience a knock in your life, nor will he make any moves to make you feel better. Okay, granted my family knows nothing of what I've been through this year. I don't like to show it to them, they'll only worry. But this morning I slipped and now my dad is seeing it. He isn't one to go from being a grumpy asshole to being overly silly and funny for no reason.

I'm ashamed that he has to do this. This was all my fault, I brought this all upon myself, I've absolutely ruined everything and I can't fix it and I will never forgive myself for this.

The past few days have been absolutely torturous. And interesting, at the same time. People are petty, and I don't understand them. There is so much that I don't understand about life and about people. There is so much I wish for; that I had all the answers, and that I could read minds, be a fly on the wall of where I ever wanted to be, see into the future and change the past. There is so much.

Late night about two days ago I had possibly one of the most confusing arguments with a friend. I'm actually not sure if he was an actual "friend" or an acqaintance. I typed up a whole blog post about it the next morning, I didn't post it. When worse things happen after that you sort of realise what's more important: a silly argument where a so-called friend goes so far as to delete and block you off of a social networking site, lie about it and then call you insecure, or losing the most important person in your life because you are actually insecure and so incredibly fucking stupid.

And here I am blogging when I'm considering deleting it. The whole thing. If you've read everything in this pitiful blog you would guess that I love someone who hurt me repeatedly and now I my heart is sore and I'm on my own. So I blogged about it. Pretty much all over. And then he read it. All of it. Because I told him to. And now he hates me (I struggle to comprehend why) and will never forgive me. For so long all he was worried about was what would happen to our friendship if we got together. I know he was lying, but I chose to believe it. Now he doesn't want me in his life. At all. Getting him to reply to any of my text messages is hard enough let alone trying to convince him to see my view or let go of his pride, let alone drive down the road to watch me fall apart and plead a case he won't even listen to.

I don't know what to do. With myself. With my life. With my pain. I don't know what to do.