Since I apparently have this whole thing about cataloging probably pointless symptoms, I'm just gonna go ahead and do this since I've got time to kill during these last couple of days of Boring Ass Break.
So let's break this into three time periods: Long Ago, Pre Mel, Post Mel.
First, Long Ago. I've never been very good at the whole sleeping thing. Falling asleep takes an age, even if I'm tired. Until this the start of this school year (more or less) it was standable, though. The routine was 'go to sleep, get 6 or 7 hours of sleep (8 or 9 on weekends/breaks), get up, be grumpy, get better, get through school day, do stuff, repeat'.
Pre-Mel things started to get worse (hence Ash's 'get exercise!' idea). Things were a lot like before except I'd start getting tired about midway through 3rd period (somewhat before noon). I never had any real problems getting through the day (I just felt a little miserable), and then I'd take a nap when I got home and be refreshed until dinner or so then right back to miserable for a couple hours 'til I went to sleep. Honestly that actually helped a bit in getting to sleep.
And the past couple of weeks (Post Mel) it's started to get downright unbearable. I actually fell asleep in class a couple of times and have actually resorted to pinching myself and a healthy dose of whatever caffeine I can get at lunch (usually just tea, yeck). The nap still helps but I always seem to wake up during the night. I can't really say I get my 6 or 7 hours because it's more like 6 or 7 cut in half or thirds or fourths (I generally just wake up for a few minutes and then fade back into sleep, so I'm really not too concerned with counting them).
I hate getting help for this sort of thing but it's starting to really fucking suck. Fortunately my hard classes (Chemistry and Algebra 2) are in the early mornings so it shouldn't be affecting my grades much but ugh. Mom's been too under the weather to notice or care and Jerry is, well, usually working.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Spring Break. Woo.
First, it seems Ash is not reading the blog. If my winning wordsmithing and playful demeanor have not driven her to reveal herself, then clearly nothing short of telling her to read it so I feel less like I'm talking to myself will work.
Which is unfortunate because she's taken her Break down to Galveston along with her family. (Sure I could call her but that'd feel selfish.) So it's been Mel and me, for the most part, since Uncle Jerry's been working and Mom's been feeling under the weather and left us to our own devices.
First up, the good things. Mel's a fucking incredibly fast reader. She finished the Animorphs book in a couple of days. She's currently barreling through Book 2 of the Cleric Quintet, so enraptured with elves fighting orcs and other beasties that I wonder if I haven't inadvertently gotten another candidate for a D&D group. Of course she identifies more with the spry, beautiful, and serene Danica and what's-his-face-the-elf-king than the surly dwarven comic relief Bouldershoulders but that can be remedied with time.
This also leads into the bad. In the one week of school before the break, Mel has apparently been 'troubling-ly' (that's a quote, if not a word) distant from the other kids, unresponsive to the teachers, and much more engaged in the books I've lent her than actual learning or social interaction. 'Well, duh' was kind of my response and same with her therapist, but still. I have no doubt she's pretty shy so that's certainly not helping things. She also seems to hate going outside and PE in general (attitudes with which I can sympathize, especially hatred of the day star).
There was also an incident at the park. I seem to have forgotten the detail last time, but Ash is on this whole fitness lark since she used to run track and is apparently missing the benefits of being in shape. Me being less of a useless pale lump and my sleep issues are merely collateral damage on her path to be one of those annoying exercise nuts. Since we'd kept more-or-less to a steady schedule throughout the week we decided to just relax at the park with Mel on Saturday, before she scampered off to that family reunion. Things were pretty cool; we threw some bread to the ducks (everybody loves ducks and Mel's no exception), took a walk around the main trail, stopped a moment by that drainage ditch. Ash, being the nut she is, threatened to push us both over and gave me a good enough shove to knock me off balance. It's good to hear Mel laugh, even if it is at my own misfortune. Finished everything up with a go at the swings. Again, Ash said she'd send Mel clear around the bar; she still hasn't figured out how to handle her, needless to say. She's always been more about playful teasing and that's not good for shy kids.
So apart from the psycho friend issue, it was all pretty normal. I got Mel calmed down and convinced Ash wasn't gonna recklessly injure any of us and we headed to the car. Ash and I were walking along chatting about whatever when we realized Mel wasn't following us. She'd stopped twenty or thirty feet behind us and was staring off towards the center of the park. There's a big memorial wall there, with the names of soldiers from here who'd served. There was an older man, tall, dressed in a suit and one of those weird WW2-ie hats, just kind of standing by a tree there and facing toward us. I walked back to Mel, waved, didn't get a response. I told her something about it not being polite to stare, and she looked up at me and said "Let's go" in a low, quivering voice.
Something was up, though I don't have a clue what. I asked her what was wrong, but Ash had walked over and I just got an "It's nothing" from Mel. I've wanted to ask her about it but she's been positively exuberant lately, reading and telling me the plot and playing Viva Pinata. It just doesn't seem like a time to bring such trauma up. I'll find a chance to broach the subject sometime, I'm sure.
Which is unfortunate because she's taken her Break down to Galveston along with her family. (Sure I could call her but that'd feel selfish.) So it's been Mel and me, for the most part, since Uncle Jerry's been working and Mom's been feeling under the weather and left us to our own devices.
First up, the good things. Mel's a fucking incredibly fast reader. She finished the Animorphs book in a couple of days. She's currently barreling through Book 2 of the Cleric Quintet, so enraptured with elves fighting orcs and other beasties that I wonder if I haven't inadvertently gotten another candidate for a D&D group. Of course she identifies more with the spry, beautiful, and serene Danica and what's-his-face-the-elf-king than the surly dwarven comic relief Bouldershoulders but that can be remedied with time.
This also leads into the bad. In the one week of school before the break, Mel has apparently been 'troubling-ly' (that's a quote, if not a word) distant from the other kids, unresponsive to the teachers, and much more engaged in the books I've lent her than actual learning or social interaction. 'Well, duh' was kind of my response and same with her therapist, but still. I have no doubt she's pretty shy so that's certainly not helping things. She also seems to hate going outside and PE in general (attitudes with which I can sympathize, especially hatred of the day star).
There was also an incident at the park. I seem to have forgotten the detail last time, but Ash is on this whole fitness lark since she used to run track and is apparently missing the benefits of being in shape. Me being less of a useless pale lump and my sleep issues are merely collateral damage on her path to be one of those annoying exercise nuts. Since we'd kept more-or-less to a steady schedule throughout the week we decided to just relax at the park with Mel on Saturday, before she scampered off to that family reunion. Things were pretty cool; we threw some bread to the ducks (everybody loves ducks and Mel's no exception), took a walk around the main trail, stopped a moment by that drainage ditch. Ash, being the nut she is, threatened to push us both over and gave me a good enough shove to knock me off balance. It's good to hear Mel laugh, even if it is at my own misfortune. Finished everything up with a go at the swings. Again, Ash said she'd send Mel clear around the bar; she still hasn't figured out how to handle her, needless to say. She's always been more about playful teasing and that's not good for shy kids.
So apart from the psycho friend issue, it was all pretty normal. I got Mel calmed down and convinced Ash wasn't gonna recklessly injure any of us and we headed to the car. Ash and I were walking along chatting about whatever when we realized Mel wasn't following us. She'd stopped twenty or thirty feet behind us and was staring off towards the center of the park. There's a big memorial wall there, with the names of soldiers from here who'd served. There was an older man, tall, dressed in a suit and one of those weird WW2-ie hats, just kind of standing by a tree there and facing toward us. I walked back to Mel, waved, didn't get a response. I told her something about it not being polite to stare, and she looked up at me and said "Let's go" in a low, quivering voice.
Something was up, though I don't have a clue what. I asked her what was wrong, but Ash had walked over and I just got an "It's nothing" from Mel. I've wanted to ask her about it but she's been positively exuberant lately, reading and telling me the plot and playing Viva Pinata. It just doesn't seem like a time to bring such trauma up. I'll find a chance to broach the subject sometime, I'm sure.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
So. Ash.
This is more of a personal goad to get Ash to admit she reads my blog more than for your benefit, Internet. Contained within are TruFacts™ like her third nipple (it's on her right shoulder blade) and outright slander like her love of shitty pop music.
In what seems like a time before time we were classmates in pre-school. To hear my mother tell it I was madly in puppy love with Ashleigh, and we both get teased about it 'til this day (my family has a severe issue with that kind of thing). I suppose the fact we're platonic best friends exacerbates that. But that's where our time as peers (or at least being in the same class) ended since mom decided I needed to wait another year before going into the proper K-12 education.
And apparently she had a point. I had speech issues (according to her probably from outright stubbornness - I learned to pronounce the word wrong and that didn't matter that was the word, change SUCKS.) There was a training montage from hell or whatever in the year that should have been kindergarten and I was more or less cured of it and deemed sufficiently well adjusted to go on to kindergarten.
But that is a tangent, we're talking about Ash. I can't remember exactly what grade (3rd?), her family moved out here to the boonies outside town, literally right across the road, and we became playmates of circumstance. She's always been a tomboy and my romps through the woods with a toy sword and me squelching through the giant mud puddle that serves as our front yard after a rain like I was Link on a grand adventure was right up her alley. We got into D&D and terrible Sci-Fi (SyFy, what the fuck ever) B-movies as we grew older.
Since she's been a year ahead of me we really don't see each other that much at school (except between classes, lunch, and the occasional grade-mixed elective). Apart from the fact she's more social than I am (not that that's hard) and she has a car, we're still pretty much on the same page - small groups of friends, same interests, think a lot alike, both in advanced courses. She's even on an accelerated plan (she'll be graduating this year - but I try not to think about that too much).
My point is she's a great girl and a great friend and you should know that if you are reading, Ash, (even if that does make you a liar).
In what seems like a time before time we were classmates in pre-school. To hear my mother tell it I was madly in puppy love with Ashleigh, and we both get teased about it 'til this day (my family has a severe issue with that kind of thing). I suppose the fact we're platonic best friends exacerbates that. But that's where our time as peers (or at least being in the same class) ended since mom decided I needed to wait another year before going into the proper K-12 education.
And apparently she had a point. I had speech issues (according to her probably from outright stubbornness - I learned to pronounce the word wrong and that didn't matter that was the word, change SUCKS.) There was a training montage from hell or whatever in the year that should have been kindergarten and I was more or less cured of it and deemed sufficiently well adjusted to go on to kindergarten.
But that is a tangent, we're talking about Ash. I can't remember exactly what grade (3rd?), her family moved out here to the boonies outside town, literally right across the road, and we became playmates of circumstance. She's always been a tomboy and my romps through the woods with a toy sword and me squelching through the giant mud puddle that serves as our front yard after a rain like I was Link on a grand adventure was right up her alley. We got into D&D and terrible Sci-Fi (SyFy, what the fuck ever) B-movies as we grew older.
Since she's been a year ahead of me we really don't see each other that much at school (except between classes, lunch, and the occasional grade-mixed elective). Apart from the fact she's more social than I am (not that that's hard) and she has a car, we're still pretty much on the same page - small groups of friends, same interests, think a lot alike, both in advanced courses. She's even on an accelerated plan (she'll be graduating this year - but I try not to think about that too much).
My point is she's a great girl and a great friend and you should know that if you are reading, Ash, (even if that does make you a liar).
That wasn't so bad.
I was completely and totally wrong and Melanie has adjusted well considering the circumstances. It's hard to tell if her general mood is morose or just quiet pre-teen. But apart from that first night she's been nothing but a blank slate on which to impress my own tastes. The minute she saw my bookshelf she was intrigued. I suppose most of what I've got is fairly low brow or whatever - old Star Wars novels I can't ever remember reading, some stuff from R.A. Salvatore, Weis & Hickman, the entire Shannara series (only half of which I've read). Also like half of the Animorphs books (which I inherited from Ash's older brother a few years ago when the other half had an unfortunate run-in with Hurricane Ike). She borrowed one of the prequel books (Andalite Chronicles I think?) since I don't have the start of the main series. I also convinced her to take the first book of the Cleric Quintet because god damn I need somebody who's both an avid reader and fantasy geek in my life. On other such fronts, she also loves Viva Pinata. Thank goodness for my eclectic game tastes because I don't think she'd take so well to a murder simulator.Unfortunately I don't have much in the way of two player games that aren't murder simulators, but oh well.
On a slightly less selfish front, the child therapist she's seeing seems to think things look pretty normal. Everybody handles grief differently and apparently Mel is the type to put on a strong face and keep things bottled up. I keep wanting not to type this because it just sounds batshit, but I have to say that occasionally she seems almost like... relaxed or relieved I'm not sure what to call it. I just want to have it on record so if there is some sort of problem I can reread this and think 'oh gee maybe I should do something about that'.
I'd better get to sleep. I had intended to talk more about Ashleigh but I guess I'll have to put that off. Try not to let the anticipation get to you, Internet.
On a slightly less selfish front, the child therapist she's seeing seems to think things look pretty normal. Everybody handles grief differently and apparently Mel is the type to put on a strong face and keep things bottled up. I keep wanting not to type this because it just sounds batshit, but I have to say that occasionally she seems almost like... relaxed or relieved I'm not sure what to call it. I just want to have it on record so if there is some sort of problem I can reread this and think 'oh gee maybe I should do something about that'.
I'd better get to sleep. I had intended to talk more about Ashleigh but I guess I'll have to put that off. Try not to let the anticipation get to you, Internet.
Monday, March 7, 2011
I'd love to sleep like a normal person.
Uncle Jerry's not even on shift. I suppose it's somewhat Ash's fault.
Speaking of, she was delighted when I told her I'd actually started this... and promptly told me she wouldn't read it? I'm not sure if I trust that. Why make a public journal if only complete strangers are going to read it? Of course she's weird like that sometimes.
Maybe she's just trying to respect my privacy.
Anyway, Saturday and Sunday Ash convinced me to check out our town's parks. She can actually drive, so she picked me up. One of the places is more of a memorial than a park. Just a big grassy field with one lonely playground set thing in the middle. I think there's only a park there because the school that used to be there burned down a few decades back. There's another one on the south side of town that looks more like a vacant lot with swingsets and a seesaw in it; it's tiny.
And then there's Knupple Park. (that's kuh-nup-uhl if you're wondering). It's actually in a fairly nice residential area, big, lots of trees, and a jogging trail. A nice big pond too. The only downside is it's right next to a steep drainage ditch, but you can't win them all I guess. Well it also got a bit of a bad reputation because of some child abductions/disappearances a few years back that kind of keeps the neighborhood paranoid, but nothing like that's happened since then.
Of course, the reason we're doing this is exercise! She's convinced my sleeping issues are because I don't get tired enough during the day, so I can't go to sleep, which makes me tired (???). I didn't quite get the logic either. Then again, physical exertion and sleep deprivation are two very different things I guess. I dunno.
It did work, a little, I guess. We did some jogging on Saturday and tried some tennis Sunday morning. I slept pretty well Saturday but I was still kinda tired. Sunday... Well, I guess that's that leads into the uncomfortable part of this update.
We got back from our little outing (with more than a few ball-induced bruises; I suck at tennis) right about when mom and Jerry got back from picking up Melanie. Now Ashleigh loves kids and she did that whole 'D'AAAAAAAAAW' cooing thing the minute she saw Mel. I don't know if she's just a dumbass or didn't understand how Mel is and just what she'd been through, but basically I wound up with a shy eleven year old painfully clutching my leg and convinced Ashleigh is basically her scary overly handsy aunt.
Lunch was slightly awkward as we tried to get to know a little about Melanie and she kept clamming up whenever Ash asked a question. Eventually she got the idea and excused herself. Mel never did open up all the way but we did learn she likes reading, her favorite color is still baby blue (thank God, that's the color i had to paint her room), and that she's used to a diet with a lot fewer greasy foods than we typically have. (The fried chicken lunch didn't go over well).
But overall she seemed like an OK kid. She reminds me a little of me at that age - quiet, bookish. Well that's still true now. Of course trouble did start up when she tried to go to sleep last night. She absolutely needed a night light and when one of mom's dogs saw the light on he figured that was a good place to scratch on the window and beg to be let in. Mel basically flipped her shit, woke up the house, and wound up sleeping in mom's bed. I hate to brag about being right (especially to myself), but if that kind of thing keeps up these first few weeks are going to be as bad as I thought.
I never did quite get back to deep sleep after that and finally gave up about an hour ago. Damn, this entry got long. Sorry if I bored you, Internet.
Speaking of, she was delighted when I told her I'd actually started this... and promptly told me she wouldn't read it? I'm not sure if I trust that. Why make a public journal if only complete strangers are going to read it? Of course she's weird like that sometimes.
Maybe she's just trying to respect my privacy.
Anyway, Saturday and Sunday Ash convinced me to check out our town's parks. She can actually drive, so she picked me up. One of the places is more of a memorial than a park. Just a big grassy field with one lonely playground set thing in the middle. I think there's only a park there because the school that used to be there burned down a few decades back. There's another one on the south side of town that looks more like a vacant lot with swingsets and a seesaw in it; it's tiny.
And then there's Knupple Park. (that's kuh-nup-uhl if you're wondering). It's actually in a fairly nice residential area, big, lots of trees, and a jogging trail. A nice big pond too. The only downside is it's right next to a steep drainage ditch, but you can't win them all I guess. Well it also got a bit of a bad reputation because of some child abductions/disappearances a few years back that kind of keeps the neighborhood paranoid, but nothing like that's happened since then.
Of course, the reason we're doing this is exercise! She's convinced my sleeping issues are because I don't get tired enough during the day, so I can't go to sleep, which makes me tired (???). I didn't quite get the logic either. Then again, physical exertion and sleep deprivation are two very different things I guess. I dunno.
It did work, a little, I guess. We did some jogging on Saturday and tried some tennis Sunday morning. I slept pretty well Saturday but I was still kinda tired. Sunday... Well, I guess that's that leads into the uncomfortable part of this update.
We got back from our little outing (with more than a few ball-induced bruises; I suck at tennis) right about when mom and Jerry got back from picking up Melanie. Now Ashleigh loves kids and she did that whole 'D'AAAAAAAAAW' cooing thing the minute she saw Mel. I don't know if she's just a dumbass or didn't understand how Mel is and just what she'd been through, but basically I wound up with a shy eleven year old painfully clutching my leg and convinced Ashleigh is basically her scary overly handsy aunt.
Lunch was slightly awkward as we tried to get to know a little about Melanie and she kept clamming up whenever Ash asked a question. Eventually she got the idea and excused herself. Mel never did open up all the way but we did learn she likes reading, her favorite color is still baby blue (thank God, that's the color i had to paint her room), and that she's used to a diet with a lot fewer greasy foods than we typically have. (The fried chicken lunch didn't go over well).
But overall she seemed like an OK kid. She reminds me a little of me at that age - quiet, bookish. Well that's still true now. Of course trouble did start up when she tried to go to sleep last night. She absolutely needed a night light and when one of mom's dogs saw the light on he figured that was a good place to scratch on the window and beg to be let in. Mel basically flipped her shit, woke up the house, and wound up sleeping in mom's bed. I hate to brag about being right (especially to myself), but if that kind of thing keeps up these first few weeks are going to be as bad as I thought.
I never did quite get back to deep sleep after that and finally gave up about an hour ago. Damn, this entry got long. Sorry if I bored you, Internet.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Wee Hours Boredom
I hate waking up early because the rest of the house is asleep (well, just mom right now) and there's not much for me to do other than dick around on the Intertube. Which, if you'd like to know my deepest darkest (e-)secret, is difficult because I live rurally enough that we've only got dial-up Internet. (And ridiculously expensive and unreliable satellite).
I was playing Riddick (the 360 one) but got pissed off after the third death by instant-kill spider drones. Then I remembered I was supposed to post about the other thing that's been bothering me.
Dad remarried and had another kid and only barely in that order. (I told you he wasn't the greatest man on earth). His wife died in the same crash he did and her legal guardian is my Uncle Jerry, who lives with us and is basically the only household income. It's been tied up in paperwork or whatever for a week now but my half-sister Melanie is finally gonna be here tomorrow.
Now I haven't seen her in years but you know the poor kid is going to be fucked up after what happened. She lost both of her honest to god parents in one night and now she's been with the cops (or child services? I dunno) for a week waiting to be carried across state lines. She's been pretty traumatized and as cold as it sounds I'm not sure that's something I want to put up with.
I've been way too tired lately (no thanks to me being the only one preparing her room since Jerry's on shift and mom is sick) and I've never liked kids. I mean I'll deal but the first few weeks of this are gonna suck for both of us.
Maybe I'm just a self absorbed prick but at least I know it I guess.
I was playing Riddick (the 360 one) but got pissed off after the third death by instant-kill spider drones. Then I remembered I was supposed to post about the other thing that's been bothering me.
Dad remarried and had another kid and only barely in that order. (I told you he wasn't the greatest man on earth). His wife died in the same crash he did and her legal guardian is my Uncle Jerry, who lives with us and is basically the only household income. It's been tied up in paperwork or whatever for a week now but my half-sister Melanie is finally gonna be here tomorrow.
Now I haven't seen her in years but you know the poor kid is going to be fucked up after what happened. She lost both of her honest to god parents in one night and now she's been with the cops (or child services? I dunno) for a week waiting to be carried across state lines. She's been pretty traumatized and as cold as it sounds I'm not sure that's something I want to put up with.
I've been way too tired lately (no thanks to me being the only one preparing her room since Jerry's on shift and mom is sick) and I've never liked kids. I mean I'll deal but the first few weeks of this are gonna suck for both of us.
Maybe I'm just a self absorbed prick but at least I know it I guess.
Angsty Angsting Angst
I suppose that title makes me seem insincere.
First, for those astute/strangely caring enough to notice, I'm up very early. My uncle accidentally woke me up on his way to work again. I sleep very lightly and this happens virtually every time he's on shift. I also have a really hard time going to sleep, but I always have. Gonna need a lot of caffeine today.
Second, if it does seem insincere I suppose it's because I'm only sort of distantly depressed. My mom and dad have been separated for almost as long as I can remember. He hasn't been directly involved in my life much simply because of geography, just the occasional visit when I was younger. We talked now and then and he was my dad and I loved him but it's not like my life has changed that much.
It almost seems cruel because he's my dad and he's gone and I just didn't get all these memories you're supposed to have of your father and wow this is harder than I thought. I guess it's hard for me to put into words which is weird because I've always thought I was pretty good at communicating. We've been talking less and I was kind of mad at him because he's been ribbing me about not getting my license yet and whenever that gets brought up I get all stereotypically teenager angry/sulky. That was kind of what our last conversation was about too.
If it makes sense, I miss what I never had as much as what I've lost. My dad wasn't the greatest man on earth and I really wish he had the chance to make more amends before he passed. As it stands his story just ended too soon.
I guess writing this down coherently did help. Maybe now that my thoughts are gathered I can talk to mom or Ash about it now instead of just ignoring him in death like I did in life.
First, for those astute/strangely caring enough to notice, I'm up very early. My uncle accidentally woke me up on his way to work again. I sleep very lightly and this happens virtually every time he's on shift. I also have a really hard time going to sleep, but I always have. Gonna need a lot of caffeine today.
Second, if it does seem insincere I suppose it's because I'm only sort of distantly depressed. My mom and dad have been separated for almost as long as I can remember. He hasn't been directly involved in my life much simply because of geography, just the occasional visit when I was younger. We talked now and then and he was my dad and I loved him but it's not like my life has changed that much.
It almost seems cruel because he's my dad and he's gone and I just didn't get all these memories you're supposed to have of your father and wow this is harder than I thought. I guess it's hard for me to put into words which is weird because I've always thought I was pretty good at communicating. We've been talking less and I was kind of mad at him because he's been ribbing me about not getting my license yet and whenever that gets brought up I get all stereotypically teenager angry/sulky. That was kind of what our last conversation was about too.
If it makes sense, I miss what I never had as much as what I've lost. My dad wasn't the greatest man on earth and I really wish he had the chance to make more amends before he passed. As it stands his story just ended too soon.
I guess writing this down coherently did help. Maybe now that my thoughts are gathered I can talk to mom or Ash about it now instead of just ignoring him in death like I did in life.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Intro Post
I'm not quite sure how you're supposed to start one of these things.
I'm 16, quiet, stoic (if you're being overly kind), and depressed. I suppose that makes me one of the million voices crying out, signifying nothing, but my friend Ash insists this'll do me some good. I doubt anybody actually gives a damn (don't have that many friends and I don't plan to share this with my e-friends, as it were), but I guess it could be therapeutic to get stuff out? I dunno, cheaper than real therapy, at least.
I guess I'll go ahead and drop the bomb now to hook in any unfortunate 'audience' that stumbles here and to encourage me to come back and delete (or expound upon) this later:
Main reason I'm depressed is because my dad died recently. I'm sure Ash will bug me to write the whole thing out later, but it's really late now and I had enough trouble just setting up the blog.
I'm 16, quiet, stoic (if you're being overly kind), and depressed. I suppose that makes me one of the million voices crying out, signifying nothing, but my friend Ash insists this'll do me some good. I doubt anybody actually gives a damn (don't have that many friends and I don't plan to share this with my e-friends, as it were), but I guess it could be therapeutic to get stuff out? I dunno, cheaper than real therapy, at least.
I guess I'll go ahead and drop the bomb now to hook in any unfortunate 'audience' that stumbles here and to encourage me to come back and delete (or expound upon) this later:
Main reason I'm depressed is because my dad died recently. I'm sure Ash will bug me to write the whole thing out later, but it's really late now and I had enough trouble just setting up the blog.
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