the abhorrence

So, yesterday I was diagnosed with clinical depression. What a big fucking surprise; the doctor might as well have informed me "two large symmetrical growths in my scrotal area." (in before people snicker and question my sexuality.) I've been closing myself in my room all summer, slowly losing interest in everything I love to do. Haven't played any music or games in weeks aside from one or two respites. What's worse, I don't go out with my friends nearly ever. There was a whole week in which I told them I was sick and couldn't leave the house...because I just didn't want to be around anyone. It makes me feel horrible for doing so, and that just compounds the weight hanging off my shoulders, and the pit in my stomach is getting larger and larger. I barely eat anymore. I'm as pale as a ghost (davies.) My voice is going, I can't sing worth shit now. I can almost feel the neurons shutting down every minute I stay bolted to this desk in front of the computer, staring blankly into the flickering nodes of light that are slowly but surely giving me cancer. Fantastic. None of that is even the most frightening, though, not to me. See, before this even came about, I was what you would call socially retarted. I'm so scared this is just going to make it worse, make me completely unable (I spelt inable and thought it was right, my mind is going, dear god I'm becoming more and more stupid) to even talk to other people, cowering in my baseless fears of society. People are constantly judging me, I can feel it, no matter how much I tell myself it isn't true and that I'm merely fucking batshit crazy, it's always in my head. I'm afraid this could very well be the hypothetical point where my sanity begins to slip...if all the dominos fall in the way I fear they may. Obviously the chances of that are astronomical, but in my state it's not like I'm going to write it off. I just want to feel normal, I see people every day who lead healthy if not charmed lives with lots of friends, enviable romance, and a grasp on their doings. I know in my head and heart that I could be one of them, one of the well-adjusted peons that live their lives so fruitfully. Maybe it's all of this conscious plaintivity that's keeping me, like I'm putting up mental blocks that I can't take down unless I accept my place. But that's not what I want! What is my place meant to be anyway? A nameless lower-middle class person, few friends, homely and not very noteworthy...that's not what I want. I want to be known, I want to be the guy people miss when he isn't around, the one that when I'm not around, people still acknowledge me. Not the distant friend. Not the fringe guy you invite at the last minute to fill out the crowd. I don't want to be boring or awkward or socially inept...I want real respect. I want to be my own person again. Not to say I want to be ALPHA AS FUCK, but not a useless person, which is sort of what I am right now. I wish I could just get over myself and appreciate what I have in life, and not take things so personally. Christ, it's ridiculous how pathetic I am for not being able to. I guess this is just another cry for attention to try and spark that facet of my mind back to life after laying in its dormancy for so long.