Failure and small victories.

Failure because I failed yet again to write a decent blog entry due to unmanageable depression. Success, because in spite of this, or maybe because of this, I managed to have my first orgasm in I can't remember how long. The head-pills prevent me reaching orgasm, like any drugs relating to seratonin. But I gave it my best shot, and victory was mine. I was, however, left with the rather uncomfortable fact that my despair aided my arousal.

I spent most of the day laying on my bed, my brain metaphorically oozing onto the floor. This led me to want to go back to sleep, as this is my favourite method to shut down the horrible feelings in my head. And the circle goes round, because sleeping my life away and accomplishing nothing only makes me loathe myself more.

I stared at the ceiling and thought of interesting physical ways I could be hurt which could produce some tears, thus making me feel better. Which led to me thinking of non-physical ways. Which led to me thinking of various methods of degradation. Which led to the extremely weird headspace of absolute desolation and rampant horn.

But at least I came.