I want out.

Not doing too well today, I probably should go running or something. Every morning I wake up terribly depressed, and by the end I’m fine. My anti-depressants don’t give me diarrhea anymore so that’s a plus.

That guy Stephen I told you about, the old guy? He told me not to use the words “terrible, horrible, or awful” unless for special occasions, to keep them sacred. Terrible is for the holocaust, horrible is for the men bleeding to death in Iraq, awful is Rwanda. I know it puts it in perspective,

I don’t know. I’m so easily changed. I got fucked up last Sunday, not drunk, just fucked up. My mind. And ever since – I want to blame it on the anti-depressants, maybe they’re making me dead half the day? Or on the old guy Stephen, maybe I’m not new age. Maybe I’m not atheist. Maybe we don’t mix well. Or on myself, for being so, I want to believe everything apparently. And I do.

I don’t know what it is to be a Christian.

I’m lost in myself.