Day 9 of San Diego

My depression is worsening. I've probably said this tons of times, but I'm seriously thinking of taking anti-depressants. I don't know when. I don't even know how much they are or how strong the dosage should be. All I know is that I'm really down in the dumps these days.

I know it has only been a week since Mason left. I guess that's the hardest time - while the pain of him leaving is still fresh. I'm sure after a month, this depression will settle into subtle grief.

Today was... another day. I watched a baby bird die this morning. My dad took him away from Fluffy who caught the little bird. Unfortunately, Fluffy hurt him more than we knew. Dad placed the tiny bird in a shoe box with some tissues for comfort. I stuck by the baby bird's side until he passed away... I'm glad I stayed with him. I'm glad he didn't die alone.

Last night, Mason and I got into an argument about me drinking on my 21st birthday. He has a history of alcoholics in his family (as do I) and he despises people abusing alcohol. He hates alcohol. And when I mentioned my 21st birthday possibly being in Vegas, he feared I would become an alcoholic, too. Which isn't me! I don't want to get smashed on my 21st. I want to remember what happened!

For an hour or two, we fought about the subject... Hurtful things were said... Fears were being used for blaming mechanics... We both messed up. We both took the situation too far...

In all honesty, I don't even know if I'm going to Vegas for my 21st. I don't know if I'll drink on my 21st. But I do know that I love Mason very much and I wish he would understand that, when I say I'm not like anybody else, I mean it.