Oh, hey.

I forgot I had this account.

Let's start things off right with a taste of what kind of drudgery I'll typically blog about. Assuming, of course, that I blog often.

(Please note that I'll probably jump around a lot with little to no segue in between. This is usually because I want to address more than one thing and don't want to take the time to properly introduce the topic before coming to it. Such is my sloth.)

I've often regarded myself as a misanthrope. Rightly so, because it's true. However, my misanthropy mostly extends to the world at large. Upon getting to know a person, I might make an exception. Well, mostly. I think this was known as a "tender misanthrope". Then again, I could easily be wrong.
I'm not entirely sure when it started, but I'm sure it was before I went to kindergarten. I lived at an apartment complex (at least I believe this is what it's called when it's multiple buildings of apartments) wherein many of the kids there weren't exactly good kids. My two biggest griefers were a foul-mouthed little kid (younger than I was) who bit everyone and an older bully. The former was a complete bastard to everyone while the latter was generally okay to everyone but me. These two planted hatred and distrust in me at a relatively early age. Yes, it is a very Freudian excuse, but it's pretty much the source.
This led to me generally secluding myself from just about everyone in the belief that they were all ready to make me miserable. I did have a couple friends in high school, but that was the extent of it. In fact, my closest friends are on the Internet.
Another possible contributing factor is asexuality. Not asexuality as in no sexual attraction, but asexuality in that I don't care about sex. Sex would require getting far too close to a person than I am comfortable with. Plus, I don't want to reproduce, really. If anything about me is genetic, even a single detail, then why would I want to burden possible offspring with my problems? Now, some could contest that sex needn't be for reproduction. But I think sex for pleasure is nothing but glorified, mutual masturbation. This doesn't mean I'm telling everybody to stop going at it because my opinion dictates as much. That wouldn't be right.

Topic jump, woo. I think I've always been depressed, but I wasn't suicidal until I was thirteen. I think it was spurred on by the sudden change from sixth grade to seventh. In the school system in my town, you're in elementary school from kindergarten till sixth grade. Seventh through twelfth is high school. Obviously this was rather a large change for me. In addition, my grades went from As and Bs to Ds and Fs. The one thing I was proud of about myself had suddenly been taken away. My grades varied throughout high school, ranging from Ds to Bs for the most part, and every grade below a B struck a cord in me. Thus, the thing that began the suicidal thoughts (or perhaps suicidal ideation, as I never attempted it) plagued me.
I missed much of eleventh grade due to anxiety and depression, and couldn't go to twelfth at all. I tried an Alternative Learning Center for a while, but I couldn't get the work done, just like in high school. The stress and anxiety made it impossible to concentrate. So, I decided to go for me GED. Not something I'm proud of, but better than just leaving it at high school dropout. To me, at least. I finally got it in December/January.
Now I do nothing. I sit at home, leeching off the government with monthly Social Security Income (which, luckily, lets me contribute much needed money to my household, but still doesn't cheer me up much). I don't have my license or a job. No possibility of college, because I'm sure as soon as I start stress or anxiety will kick in making it difficult if not impossible to get work done. That's assuming I could afford it and it doesn't go to waste anyway.

That's enough venting for one day, and certainly enough to scare away any prospective readers. To those who actually read through it, thanks for taking the time to read my less than interesting rambling.