I found this in my notebook. Apparently I wrote it in April:

I'm drowning in my thoughts. It figures this would be the way I'd go, since I never learned to swim. The things we don't do, the chances we don't take, they always come back to bite us in the butt, don't they? Or to fill our lungs with water, whichever the case may be.
Yet another week, lost to the all-consuming darkness. No, I don't have amnesia, although I wish I did. If I couldn't remember, then I could fill my memories with whatever I wanted. Maybe I went sky-diving or mountain climbing. Hell, maybe I just sat outside on a bench and studied for that exam. Anything, any fake memory I could create, would be better than the truth.
"How was your weekend? What did you do?"
Nothing. I did absolutely nothing, stared at the ceiling, at the walls, at the floor, scrolled through webpages full of nothing until my eyes were bloodshot. All the pain of a hangover without the thrill of the party.
My life is empty because my head is too full. Regrets from the past - what should I have done? What could I have done? Anything? No, it's not worth thinking about. New topic. Why do we always want what we can't have? The second a guy tells me he loves another girl, his face turns into that of an angel. I'm stabbed with anguish over a guy I never wanted until wanting him was forbidden. "Would you consider being a nun?" Never, not in a million years. "You're not called to be a nun." But what if I want to be? When I stand next to the train tracks, in front of the sign saying not to walk on them, I want to throw myself onto them. I don't want to die, don't get me wrong, I just want to disobey.
Did they want to disobey, those first disobedient ones? Was that part of the fall, or was that our nature all along? We say, "Oh, of course they wanted the fruit. It was forbidden." But is that true? We want the forbidden fruit, but did their souls scream to them to disobey for the sake of disobedience? How could they scream out that, if no one had ever disobeyed?
I mean, I guess it's telling that all the stories talk of the first humans f---- it up. It's not like Adam and Eve had kids and grandkids and everyone lived happily until some little screw-up ruined it for everybody. No, we couldn't even make it to a second generation of existence without falling from grace.
I don't know where I'm going with this. Typical me - start writing my thoughts before they're collected, just like I open my mouth before I decide what to say. I could avoid so much trouble if I just spent 30 seconds thinking before putting pen to paper or parting my lips. But when you're drowning in thoughts, when your ship is sinking because it's filling with words, you don't stop to think which drops of water to get rid of first; you just start bailing as fast as you can.

I'm praying for you!

:)