If I end up being the one walking away, I want you to know that it wasn't because I stopped loving you, but because you stopped loving me.

Make my day and follow me @ohbabyitsclaire?

People who think depression is a choice, take another second to think. How would it feel to wake up and not have the emotional strength to face people. To think that time is just passing by with no real reason. To feel so alone even when you are sitting in a room full of people. To have to plaster on a smile and hide your feelings. How you can't physically be happy. To cry yourself to sleep, hoping that you wouldn't wake up the next morning and then when you do, you are just so exhausted from the night before and it starts all over again. You try to hide your feelings, hoping no one would notice. Now tell me why someone would choose that. 

Yes, I had an appointment with my psychologist today and she classified me under depressed. Depression is an illness, not a choice.

Spent the past few days sleeping my time away, and I probably almost died of an overdose of Panadol a day and a half ago. Celebrated Geraldine dearest's 15th birthday with Don, Henry, Maeve, Rachel and of course, the birthday girl herself yesterday. It's pretty obvious that the celebration wasn't exactly the most memorable or the most grand but I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that our presence made it worthwhile. Something pretty creepy happened to me last night. There was this really creepy guy named Raymond who called me at like two in the morning and started trying to chat me up. Call me a wimp or a pussy but I actually started crying because I got so freaked out. R, if I ever find out who you are, I'll yank your bloody balls of you and stuff a cucumber up your anal. Reality check, it's not funny to go around trying to scare girls like me in the dead of the night. On the plus side, J saw my tweet regarding the creepy R and actually called me to comfort me. Rather glad about it since we had a really good heart-to-heart talk and ironed things out.