I tried again and failed again.

I went back to school, changed my major, changed it back, drank entirely too much, went to class entirely too rarely, tried to fight my depression off–and failed–got into trouble that I’m not ready to air on my blog yet.

So I’m home again, and I’m writing again, and I suppose that’s one upside.  I need to get my prescription refilled before things really spin out of control.  But in the meantime I’ve been doing some clear thinking, which is hard to do when I’m taking my medicine.  And I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe I don’t want to go to college anymore.  Indecision has always been a struggle of mine.  Perhaps the problem stems from my depression.  Something I’ve talked about with other people who deal with this mind-fog is that we start to think we’re going to die, and soon.  We convince ourselves that an early death is inevitable, so we sometimes fail to make long-term goals or plans.  And if we do, they change… frequently.  The only thing I know for sure is that if I live to be old and gray, I want to look back on a life that was spent helping others, and hopefully in that process, helping myself, too… learning what it means to be happy and healthy.

I need to quit smoking.  I definitely need to quit drinking to excess.

Maybe I’ll go to a meeting this week.