I know, I know

So I know this blog like, barely exists, only has one follower, hasn't been used in over a year, etc. etc.

But I have something kind of deplorable to say and I didn't want to say it on Facebook

I don't really care about the car crash that happened Friday night. It hasn't impacted me in any way. People who need medical attention are getting it, people who died are either in heaven or hell (and I'm not Catholic so I don't believe there's anything for me to do for them) and the people who are mourning have friends and so far none of them have wanted to talk to me, because I don't really know any of them.

I'm depressed all by myself as is, it doesn't matter to me as much as it probably should or as much as it seems to matter to everyone else on campus.

Does that mean there's something wrong with me? I don't think so. I happen to have things wrong with but that is probably not one of them.

I am really really in a bad place. What would be terribly wrong of me would be to pretend I'm sad because of the crash so that people will get that my pain is real, instead of telling people how I really feel and having them not care or think I'm stupid.

I just can't be happy any more.
My chemicals don't know how.
I can be angry. I can be tired. Hungry, impatient, bored, afraid, worried, bitter, jealous. Boy can I ever be angry. But the happiness I get from beautiful things is fleeting and then I fall apart right afterwards. My brain clings to the bad things, focuses on the mess, the worry, the fear.

Going to counseling doesn't seem to help for more than an afternoon.
Talking with friends is only sometimes good, and only as long as we're talking.

I'm all fallen apart and no one seems to have the patience to pick up the pieces for me, and I certainly can't do it. There's a reason it took all the king's horses and all the king's men to put HD back together again, and it's not just because horses are bad at puzzles and delicate detail work.