Sleep and Movies

So I'm depressed. It's cool; I know, I know, woe is me.

My thing is, it is coming up on the anniversary of Lee's suicide and I'm finding it harder and harder to face life.
I'm not saying I'm going to kill myself, or anything. It is just, it is getting way more difficult to get out of bed in the morning.

When life gets difficult, all I want to do is crawl in to the corner and cry or crawl into bed and sleep. One happens to be more socially acceptable than the other (there are only so many places on campus, in which I can curl up and cry).

Now, this (my sleeping habit) could possibly be the result of me being a very boring, sad individual with no boyfriend and boring classes.
Why stop dreaming when your life is so mundane?

Yet, I still think it is the result of Lee.
I have periods of no sleep, then I want to sleep for days.

Sometimes I feel I should seek help, but then I think, what is the point?

I have been going to a therapist off and on since my father got cancer when I was seven and I couldn't stop washing my hands.

Essentially, my diagnosis is me. I couldn't imagine myself less neurotic or happier.

Sometimes, I do wish that I didn't think so much. I wish that I could just take a pill and my inner monologue would stop.
I wish I would stop noticing people with the same hair color as Lee, and the same fingernails.
I wish that I didn't die for a cigarette because the smell reminds me of her.

Often times I wish that I lived in a movie. Some horrible eighties flick. There would be me and some beautiful guy, and we would be destined for each other.
And the best part would be, after some distress at the senior prom, I would rush after him, or he after me; and in my best attire, we would kiss, then the credits would begin to roll to some Billy Idol song.
That is the best part; happiness, then credits. No bills, fighting, divorce or death.
I would never have to ask his mother what she did with his ashes or the ingredients for her famous stuffing recipe.
I would never have to "be strong" for my friends and family.

Families in eighties movies were always the best, because even though your mother couldn't cook, your father was a nimrod and your little brother was a pervert, you always knew that the moment in which you needed support, they would be there.

Life isn't so hard, I guess.
I think it was the interesting individual, Quetin Crisp, who said, "You fall out of your mother's womb, you crawl across open country under fire, and drop into your grave."
If I'm lucky, I will get some fatal disease in the next few years and I won't have to worry about taking care of everything anymore.

But as for now, I find my only release in my dreams and in other people's storylines.

The other day I dreamt of Lee, it was really nice.
I also dreamt of Aamir Khan; that was nice too.