Somewhere deep inside of these bones, an emptiness began to grow. . .

[[ Thank you Tim for suggesting the idea of using songs for blog titles, and thank you Nightmare Revisited for renewing my love of The Nightmare Before Christmas. ]]

My happiness, my peace of mind, my appreciation of life -- it's amazing how one Tuesday night managed to take that all away from me. I feel empty inside now; sickeningly hollow.

All I've done in life was ignore my issues and try to be optimisitic about everything. That's basically all I'm good for -- limitless optimism. Yet lately, I can't even do that right. I can flash a few half-hearted smiles, fake a laugh now a then, but I'm becoming so terrible at that all I've done was remain silent and nod occasionally to pretend that I'm paying attention to what's going on.

As the days drift by (and as I sustain more and more injuries as a result of lack of sleep and absent-mindedness), all I've found myself wanting to do was just sit in a dark corner and wait until I eventually wither away. I still try to cheer my friends up when they're gloomy, but it's so much harder when I can't even make myself happy anymore. But I keep trying regardless, because if I can't keep my peace of mind or my once-limitless amount of happiness, then I at least want to keep the image of my friends' smiles embedded in my mind. The constantly increasing amount physical injuries and the worsening of my previous ones don't help my mood any either. (Seriously, one day I know I'm gonna get hurt BADLY, but what scares me more is how nonchalant I feel when I think about it).

Here I come back to the lack of happiness issue. If I can't even do the one thing I'm good at, then what does that make me?

Useless, worthless. Just a waste of space. What's the point in continuing on with my life if things are going to go on like this? I want more reason to be grateful for being alive right now besides 'it's better than being dead'. I wish I could see things the way I did before, where nothing is truly bad because there's always something far worse that could've happened instead. It feels like everything I knew before was a lie, and now I'm finally seeing how cruel the world is. . .

I'm not sure if this is just the post-rape depression speaking or not (hehe, I wonder how many of you will go "YOU WERE DEPRESSED?! :O"), but all I know is that optimism is a pipe dream. Or at the very least, for people who truly have had an easy life. . .