I haven't been writing much, either here (obviously) or in my diary, because there's so much to say and nothing to say all at once. Over these past few weeks I have experienced, repeatedly, the lowest of lows when I genuinely did not see a point to life or even hated my parents for giving birth to me - in other words, the usual emotions that I feel a day before my period, intensity multiplied by ten. This time, however, PMS had nothing to do with it.
When I'm not depressed and suicidal and hating life in all its glorious meaninglessness, I am plagued by an unshakeable sense of melancholy. The truth is, I miss how my life used to be, how things used to be, the future that I thought I had; at the same time, I miss, too, the only other person apart from the best friend and outside of my family who had been unfailingly there for me whenever I needed him, and that vague emotion resembling happiness that I was able to feel when I had him in my life. I feel the lowest of lows without the counterbalancing highs to cancel out the former; I go through life like corpse, feeling alive only when I'm crying my fucking heart out. In the midst of all this, I am struggling to deal with my guilt and how disappointing my appalling behaviour has been since January. It doens't help, too, that the honest truth is that the last time I was really happy was in January.
I am going to London in a few months and the excitement has long been replaced by a sense of reluctance mixed with trepidation and hesitant hope. I hope to leave all this sadness behind but I am reluctant to let go, or unwilling, or unable. I want to be happy but I can't un-know the things that I know, and to some extent I think that I don't deserve it. A part of me is genuinely fearful that I'd sink into real depression in London and become suicidal or something. Judging by my behaviour the past few weeks, and the way I've been feeling, I wouldn't be surprised if I already am becoming depressed. In fact, my mom has been asking me to see a fucking shrink.
I really don't want to be one of those people - the unstable ones, the dysfunctional ones, the helpless ones. I am too fucking proud to seek help like this but clearly it's a cause for concern when a person's crying every other day and feeling sad every single fucking day. What can I say? Life sucks. There's no use pretending otherwise. But I'm tired of feeling all this shit emotions every day, all the time, feeling so damn sad, looking forward to nothing. What's the point? Since I'm too chicken to kill myself, the other logical option is to...not feel so sad, maybe?
I know there's one thing that I can do but that option's out of the question. Unfortunately it's also the only thing that I can think of. I guess, on the bright side, things will change one way or the other when I leave this damn place, so perhaps all is not lost.
Need to stop being so negative but I can't help my negative disposition. Combine that with my newfound love for cold rationality and the result is a person genuinely convinced of the emptiness of life. If there's anything I really really really hate in the world, amongst all the others that I bloody dislike, it's intellectual dishonesty trying to dish out some lousy cold comfort for people too damn scared or stupid to see the truth about life. Things like religion and art and literature try to temper what any sensible rationally-thinking person would tell you - that this is it, that life is random, that there is no higher purpose or "grand scheme of things" - but I'm having none of this bullshit. I'd rather see life for the lousy debacle that it really is than live under some fake delusion and collapse once the rug has been pulled from under me. And of course, I'm never having kids; I refuse to inflict life on a hapless person who has absolutely no say in the matter.
In tennis news, I still can't believe that Nadal lost in the second round of Wimbledon. The tournament would be perfect if Djokovic followed suit but no way in hell is that mug Troicki even taking a set off him. I didn't really dare to gloat too much about Nadal's loss just in case it happened to Roger...and lo and behold, he went down two sets to love in his third round match against Julien Benneateau and got taken to a tie-break in the fourth set. I slept through that match since I had tennis on Saturday morning and while watching the replay, especially the fourth set, all I could think of was how glad I was that I didn't watch that live. I would've been sent to the hospital halfway through that fourth set tie-break.
I was really hopeful with Roger's form in his first two matches. Now that he just survived a five-setter, albeit against a decent opponent to whom he lost in his last match with the said opponent, my hopes for him winning Wimbledon are beginning to fade. There's so much at stake here: his 17th slam, his getting back the #1 ranking and beating Pete Sampras' record for the most number of weeks at #1, tying Sampras for 7 Wimbledon titles... In all honesty I don't really care about the most number of weeks at #1 record; to me, his record of 237 consecutive weeks at #1 is way more impressive, and he's only one week shy of Pete's 286 total weeks at #1. But I would really really really love for him to win just one more slam before he retires. He doesn't have that many more years of high level tennis left in him. It's a testament to how resilient he's been and to his longevity that he's currently ranked only below Djokovic, a guy 6 years younger than him. But his fans have to accept, as I reluctantly do, that he's deep into the twilight stages of his career already and he doesn't have that many chances left to win another major because he can't play at this level forever. He's not even playing his best tennis but he's still made the semi-final of the past two slams. His game seemed to be clicking in the first two Wimbledon matches but that Benneateau match left me rather deflated (though I was quite happy to see that he found his serve and forehand from the third set on). All I can do is hope that he plays better in his fourth round match against Malisse.
Also, I'm so fucking devoed that Andy Roddick lost to David Ferrer. I really wanted to stay up to watch it since I haven't been watching much of Roddick lately but I was so damn tired and I fell asleep at 2-1 in the third set. That second tie-break was so horrible - Roddick had the set literally on his forehand but he fucking netted it. Every time Ferrer hit to his backhand I'd shout at him to stop doing that, but when Roddick got a forehand he fucked it up. It was very sad to watch, especially when he reverted to his crap approach shots in those first three games of the third set and got passed every time. He actually hit a really nice backhand slice approach deep into Ferrer's forehand corner at one point in the second set and I felt like rejoicing because such moments are so rare when one watches an Andy Roddick match.
I'm sadder about his loss than I'd thought. I guess the bright side is that he didn't lose in Round 1. How sad is that?
My Taiwanese grandparents are here and they're leaving on Friday. That really sucks.