First of all, fuck

First of all, fuck. The medication helped my depression for a couple months but it slowly is creeping back. The meds make it bearable but it's still there, I can feel it, and it's eating me away.

I spent this entire weekend off work sitting on my couch, laying on my bed, and sitting in my car in the garage.

And my dad. Fuck him. He loves me so much, but he doesn't even notice I'm struggling? I live with him and he sees me about once a day at dinner time for a total of 10 minutes. Doesn't even really say anything to me, just watches some bullshit on TV. Motherfucker is a horrible father. I will never be like him.

This hurts. It's killing me. I am a zombie. My motivation to do anything is totally fucked

1. Haven't signed up for classes that start in a month.

2. Don't eat.

3. Haven't charged my phone, no one is trying contacting me anyways except my worried mother (and she has every right to be worried, I don't tell her the truth about anything.) and people who want to buy weed from me.

4. Sleeping 14 hours of the days. Jacking off for another 3 hours.

5. 19 years old and feel like a 40 year old fucking loser.

Why I'm not ending my life, I don't know. Maybe I'm scared. Maybe I'm meant to do something meaningful with my life. Maybe. Makes you wonder where you'll be in a couple years. In a relationship or dead, I hope.