"Keep calm and write something"? How much more cliche can you get? Oh wait, I forgot:
Dear Diary,
Yeah no, I'm not doing that. I just threw up a little in my mouth. No, I'm going to pretend this is a blog, so it's not too pathetic. (Still pathetic, in my opinion.)
Dear Readers,
If you're actually reading this... I have so much respect for you, I really do.
I'm Petra Connors (name changed for obvious reasons), a sophomore in college, and I have depression. My therapist decided that it would be a good idea for me to write down my thoughts for a few minutes everyday, and that it would give me "mental clarity". My mother seemed to love this idea, and let's just say that I got no say in it.
Here goes 30 minutes of my brain being a dumbass everyday. Whoop-de-doo.
So where do I begin? College today was unbelievably boring, as always. I only skipped one class, and slept through two. I can't wait to get out of this hellhole. I'm not in the slightest bit interested in history, but can you blame me? With my grades, I didn't get much of a choice. I didn't even want to go to college. I was perfectly fine with playing at gigs with my band, but they've all moved away for college. We were going to be the next Beatles, and the idiots blew it because it was too risky.
Right after classes, I met the counselor on campus, and she gave me this... delightful assignment.
I took the bus home, and made myself a sandwich. Mom got home from work, told me she spoke to the therapist, and oh look, we're all caught up now! (ugh, I hate myself.)
Take risks, my dudes. Some of them are worth taking.