Just Don't Know What My Point With This Is

I have written a lot.
Maybe it is because I have a lot to say
but I do not actually say them out loud.
I hate talking.
I hate being told what to do.
I have initiative.
If I am not doing somethimg, it means that I am tired
or that I just do not want to do it.
I just do not want to be alive right now.
No, wait...
Maybe that is just an exaggeration.
Maybe I just do not want to be awake.
But if I wake up, it would all be the same.
This feeling will be gone in the morning when I wake up, sure.
But it comes back.
I do not want it to come back.
If it does not come back in a long time,
my abnormal brain would miss it.
I would miss it.
It sucks to be like me.
Well, not that much.
It is funny how I am gifted with a lot of things and
I got my mind to compensate.
Like,
I know how to guitar, piano, violin, banduria, laud, oktabina, double bass, flute, lyre, xylophone, drums, bass, tambourine, maracas, whatever;
I am good at math;
I can draw and paint;
I am a fast learner;
I can lift heavy objects;
Not to brag, but I am also good-looking;
and I am smart, too.
However,
I am prone to depression and psychosis;
I am weird;
I am numb;
Maybe I have bipolar disorder;
and maybe I have schizophrenia.
Just...
I dunno, you know?
I just don't know what my point with this is.