Flashback Friday

I wrote this last night. Sorry I don't yet have something more cheerful or um, good to share...
I've been going through my old notebooks again. It's interesting to come across things I don't remember and having all those feelings come back to me. Below is something I came across that I wrote about 10 years ago, and I'm guessing it was most likely written when I started taking Prozac. For some people, it can tend to have the side effect of making them more depressed and suicidal at first and I think that was the case with me. Then again, we have to consider that I was a teenager and thought I was "deep"....

I feel the fear that you call weakness. I live the popular lie of disillusionment, and even that gets old. But what I ask is, how can I believe in anything when my mind is only a clean blank slate for you to write your ideas on? Everywhere I turn, the beliefs turn into fear and I wonder why the hell am I here? In present tense, I just need something so I can sleep at night. Maybe we all do. And to believe in your non-beliefs would still be wrong to you if it was true, because they would be your words and not mine. The fear is always here, of a fate worse than death. So I turn to suicide so I can be in control, so I can get to me before you can. And it's not to say it's your fault, but your eyes are boring into my skull and now I'm thinking your thoughts because you have written them there. And what am I supposed to do? I just want to sleep at night and know that I'll wake up. And to get by in this world I have to believe in lies or else be persecuted from all sides.