Blank

I can't do it. I can't write for NaNoWriMo even though I was excited and feeling defiant last night after my rant on the subject.

I made a NaNoWriMo account, and things started out well. I'd decided on a fantasy, based on a short story I started years ago, but never finished. It was a fairy tale, and I went through it, getting vague ideas of how to expand, characters to introduce, and a direction I wanted it to go in.

I began writing. I got interrupted. By the time I returned to it, my mood had dropped and all I wanted to do was scrap the whole thing. I no longer want to write. I don't even want to blog, but I feel like I should tattle on myself to really drive home the lesson here; I can't see anything through, not even when no one's going to see it but me.

Loser.

You're not supposed to talk about yourself like that, it doesn't do any good and it's not healthy.

You're crying, loser. You're crying because you decided you don't want to write a story. A story no one even cares about. This is why you can't get a job. How do you expect anyone to want to hire someone who's sat on their ass for almost three years? You don't want a job, anyway. You want to spend all day on Facebook, playing with apps. You want to sleep sixteen hours a day so you can pretend you don't actually exist. Why don't you just f~ing kill yourself?

I don't want to kill myself. I just don't want to live.

No wonder. You're so lame, I don't even want to look at you. And now your face is all red and blotchy like a stupid blotchy-faced lame crying person.

That's a really stupid insult.

Pssht. You don't deserve better insults.

Cool.

No, not cool.

Dammit, blanked out. I hate losing my train of thought, though this time it appears to have stopped me from beating myself up.

Anyhow, the point is that *fights blanking out again* um... Oh yeah, the point *blank* I've been fighting *blank* Fighting depression and stuff for weeks, I think sometime in October, I don't remember when. Missing that job didn't help. I should do laundry. Maybe NaNoWriMo was a bad idea, if I can't handle the stress of writing a story. I don't know how I could *blank* Disability. I don't know how I could apply for disability. I managed to get through college. I think that being able to do something productive, something I could be proud of, would help, but I can't seem to get started.

Oh, I give up. My mind wants to be blank.