Nothingness

Nothing's going to change. No matter how many things happen in my life, I always end up back here. For a while I'll have this perfect world around me, I'll be happy, I'll be content. Then reality crashes back into the picture. Why? What did I do to deserve this? Is someone out there having a laugh at my expense? Is it funny that I suffer so much? Why would they get joy out of that?

I used to have havens that I could escape to, but not anymore. There is no place left that I can go to feel better, no one to turn to. My schoolwork used to be my haven, but I no longer find any joy in it. There's no motivation left to go through all the work they pile on us, and it certainly doesn't occupy my mind enough to be called an escape. I have nothing.

Is it possible to detach myself from everyone, and bottle everything up like I used to? I seem to be making a good start on the journey down that road. None of my friends even notice me anymore, let alone talk to me. I know that the rift is partly my fault. I did move away from them, before they started ignoring me. Doesn't make the hurt any less though.

I can't handle this anymore. But I will. I will keep on going until I eventually snap. Then things will be different for a week or two, but it will eventually come back to THIS. I've just lost all motivation for everything.

In Anitgone, a play by Sophocles, the main protagonist is described as being lost between life and death forever. That's exactly how I feel. I hope they find cancer in me. I want it all to be over. Dying by cancer would be excellent. How horrible is that? That I could possibly be pushed to the point of actually hoping for, not only death, but death by cancer. My life has abandoned any normalcy that was once found in it.

No matter what Professor McGonagall says about how bad ignorance is, I still want it. I want to be ignorant about everything in the world. I'm angry that I wasn't given the opportunity to be ignorant. It's worse to choose ignorance, and not be granted that choice then to choose knowledge, and have to face the pain. And for that I resent anyone who's strong enough to choose knowledge, or blind enough to not realise.

For the first time in my life I'm envious of everyone around me. They're all so different from me. They all manage to float through life, not bogged down by all of this baggage that seems to attach itself to me. Why?

I hope my friends don't discover my secret. I can handle just about anything else, but I couldn't handle them finding out. It would destroy what little was left of the happiness in my life, and I would have to live like that. I would be wishing for my death more than ever before, but I would be stuck on earth.

I have no interest left in anything that happens around me. I no longer care about how certain situations will turn out. There is no motivation or anticipation left inside of me. There's just this emptiness taking over my life, draining the laughter and goodness, and slowly swallowing me whole.

I guess if I needed to, I could talk to Harry or Ron, or even Ginny about my problems. They would be there for me. But in the end it wouldn't help. They would give me an hour out of their day, and then they would be able to forget about the pain, my pain, and move on with their life. I however would still be stuck with all the horrors from my life.

Frustration at the world grips me and won't let go. In everything I do, and everything I see there is the underlying frustration that drives me insane. I don't know how much longer I can take this.