Well now, posting again.

I don't have much to say, I guess. I could go on forever saying absolutely nothing about everything. It's my claim to fame and my one and only skill. I think I just like the sound of my keys when I type. It's a ot like someone liking the sound of their own voice, I suppose, but as I don't like that I stick to typing out my thoughts and imposing them upon the internet where people aren't necessarily forced to read them... but boredom makes one  come across some strange things. Who knows, maybe there's someone out there who wants Peter to just stop typing.

Today, I was presented with something like that. Apparently, I'm an asshole. Do I care? Not really. I fully acknowledge that I'm an asshole. The fact that the girl who thinks so couldn't tell me to my face, but instead her friend told me... is sad, at best. At worst, it's downright pathetic. I'm kind of surprised that it took so long for the conflict to arise, as I feel like I haven't changed so much in the last few weeks.

Actually, I feel like I've been more the same these last few weeks than any other time of my life. I'm not sure why that is, especially since it was the time of my life when I probably should have changed the most. It's just that the things about me that changed don't matter so much to me so I don't acknowledge them. I guess that's right. I'm not sure. I haven't fully analyzed the situation yet, so when I do I'll get back to you.

Maybe that's what I'll do now so that I have something to say.

Well, over the last few weeks/months I've gone into a depressed stupor that lead me to drink heavily on top of taking superfluous pain killers. Why did I do this? I would say that I did it BECAUSE I was depressed, but it's more that I was regretful. Which, is something that I hate to say but, is pathetic. The biggest reason I was regretful was that I had never told someone that I loved them, even though it was blatantly obvious that I loved them to the fullest extent of my or anyone else's heart. Before I could tell him, he passed away. I've mentioned this guy, Daniel, before.

This year, was strange for me. His mother contacted me and gave me a disk with my name on it that was among his possessions. She had spent the better part of a year and a half trying to find me. That was strange to me because I didn't realize that I would be that difficult to track down. ANYWAYS. She did and she gave me the disk which turned out to be a little film he was making for me. It started off with him acting goofy, sitting on his couch like he had just rolled out of bed with a cup of tea, a muffin, and his newspaper still next to him. It was like I was sitting with him. His cat even walked across the back of the couch from time to time. After he talked for a little while about things I don't want to talk about here, it cut to a montage of clips of us that he had filmed. Just... us being us and hanging out and being together. That's when I lost it, during those. Then it cut back to him talking some more... and he told me that he loved me and yeah. I watched that thing all day every day for almost a week.

That's when I started drinking. Ooh, fun fun.

Then I went to rehab... now, I admit that I do have my problems with drinking. I guess I could be considered an alcoholic, though I have far greater problems than that.

After I was in rehab and therapy, I came out taking more pills that I was supposedly addicted to as well as a brand new long list of things wrong with my brain. This... didn't surprise me, I guess. I don't know why, it would surprise any reasonable human being... especially since I don't exactly agree with all of it. But, whatever. I'm not the practitioner.

Among the already known Bipolar disorder and Clinical Depression, I was diagnosed with Hypersexuality, PTSD, and Narcissism. I wasn't aware that Narcissism was a mental problem as much as a personality type, but you learn something new every day. I go to three different therapists, three times a week. You would think this would change me. You'd think the mere knowledge of all this would change me. But, no. Apparently, the only thing that's changed about me is that I'm  more of an ass than I was before? I'm not so sure that I am. I think that some people are just more sensitive than they were before, but it's not my judgment to call.

I feel like all this is wasted on me... more than anything because I cannot take my therapists or counselors seriously. 90% of the time, I feel mentally superior to them, though that just may be that pesky Narcissism. But, I am going to go ahead and say that they don't make sense and they tell me everything I already know about myself. It's disheartening to know that they seemingly have no help for me.

It's frustrating, I guess, but it's the revelation (albeit, a minor one) that I've come to. This isn't really an analysis of my current situation, but it's something, I guess. I don't really have too much more to say on the matter as I believe that I should probably go to bed. It's nearly two am. I do have some kind of things to do tomorrow, so that's it.

-Peter