Why go out when you're almost in tears?

Another thing about last night was how I felt when I went out. I didn't
want to go out. I didn't really know why I went out. I felt like shit.

On the walk up to the station I was almost in tears. I hadn't bothered
to shower in a few days either but it was the feeling of sadness that
was more present in my mind when I was going out last night. A lot of
people would have done the smart thing and stayed in. Those people don't
live a life like mine.

I want to kill myself but all people will see is a jovial person, a
boyish lad who seems happy and happier than most who have money or other
forms of success.
I have spent so long living with misery, a misery so intense it would
break the strongest hearts and shatter the greatest minds. I've gotten
used to carrying the weight of all of that and walking around with the
vacuous façade necessary to function in a society that values a snappy
wit over anything that could be considered depth or intensity.

The intensity was perhaps borne of the black I live with or perhaps the
black I live with is a result of the intensity of inner thought. This
inner space is what psychiatry would want to take away from me. It is,
apparently, an illness. I think it's a bit like riding a bike. If you
can't learn to live with it then you'll fall over. If you can then
you'll learn to move faster and easier than someone who just walks.

So why do I go out when I feel so shit I can't be bothered to shower and
want to cry before I go out on a Saturday night? Because I'm used to it.
I've lived through so many days where I feel worse and been on so many
days when I'd rather not have existed at all. And my antidepressant -
alcohol - is very effective.