I’m in a really bad place. I consistently think about killing my self everyday. I don’t because I’m scared that there is no consciousness in the beyond; but if it weren’t for that fear I would’ve done it already. What’s the point of staying alive when you aren’t even a person, let alone yourself, anymore? What’s the point of being alive when you discover your friends aren’t really friends, that your college track is going to take you nowhere, you have no money, your family does not understand and tells you “you have to stop doing this” (aka have to stop being ‘sad’), and most importantly, when you have absolutely NO fucking purpose in this world? I used to think I had one, and that was to help others. But I can’t do that while I’m like this. And I can scream for help but no one listens.
I called my mom today to tell her how lonely I am. How all of my friends just turned out to be people taking advantage of my kindness. How I’m not even sure what I want to do, or if I want to go to grad school, but if I move home I can’t guarantee I’ll even be happier. She told me I can’t just call her up and say these things. Okay I won’t anymorw. My step-dad was sending me old pictures and videos of me pre-depression. I know he was trying to make me feel better but I asked him to stop because it was making me feel worse. I started to bawl my eyes out. I literally feel like I have no identity anymore. I’m literally just here, living. I’m an organism taking up space and air and I would be better off dead.