Very long text ahead.
I need to get this off my chest. The weight of it makes it hard to breathe. It's killing me. It's just me, myself, and I breaking each other down when no one is around. I hate admitting to depression, it feels like an excuse most times. I feel weak to be acknowledging something deep inside me. Something that has already planted its roots. I wish I had the ability to be writing soliloquies of a better time instead of sharing the story of a sicker mind. I hope with sincerity that no one can relate. Read and hope you don't understand. Because no person deserves to be feeling like this. To wake up every morning and face a day full of questions on their existence. To have suicidal thoughts flood their mind by the minute. To live in a state of dormancy with full acknowledgement towards the inevitable consequence of an unhealthy lifestyle majorly impacted by depression. I had attempted suicide at 12 years old and often wish I had went through with it. I point out all of my flaws with no intention of fixing them. I wish and I wish I could experience a moment of laughter and happiness without laying in bed that night and wondering if that was all real. Too many years went by with a bottomless feeling of emptiness. My emotions were numbed and I felt like a husk. I'm in a consistent state of apathy. I'm not sure how to cope or get out, or if getting out is even possible. I live with a sliver of hope that the next day will be different but as the title directs- I'm losing hope. Rapidly.
I've developed a judgement against people and therapists. People who speak with no personal experience go by the book. Assuming every depressed person is the same then attempt to heal them in the same cliche way. Every successful attempt is taken into account for credibility, the reliability definitely retaining no sensibility. Their ability to heal is lost on those who think it's unnecessary. I have no armor for my mental health to be changing the perspective I'm viewing. A decision I've personally made when I lost most hope.
Work, I want to do my work. My effort I've been putting into my work ethic has been stagnant. The company of viruses magnetic to my direct magnitude of my attitude. I'm a student to this with life teaching me crap but it's all backwards. I feel like an actor with no script, just improvising but failing on every thing. Constantly feeling like my best isn't enough.Juxtapose my passion and procrastination rooted from the same reason branching and growing into negativity. The thoughts that bloom don't fall far from the tree.
Procrastination was a small dose I took. Now it's been years and I'm addicted, I'm hooked. I have a long list of crap I need to get done on the daily and I'm fully aware of it. Yet I continue to do whatever I want then find myself full of regret and hopelessness at the end of the day. I used to be Mr. Go&Get It. All that I do is irrational and my lifestyle is proof. I go read books and books full of fiction and fantasy yet refuse to read the books in class facing reality. I spend plenty of time on devices but I'm not finding myself in the vices of a workaholic mind. I want to get on the grind, but there's so much anxiety and guilt revolving around the dive. I gotta go and do it. All I got is this shame in my heart. I hate to be a burden, I wish to carry my own weight without trouble.
I hate asking for help when I think I'm completely capable. I am, but mentally I'm not. I'm crippled and it's palpable. The second chance I've been given feels like it's been thrown away and wasted. Now I sit at my desk with tasks I've got ahead, but I've got my head in my hands and my hands on my desk. I've been getting way too much rest with depression naps. It's making me sluggish and dormant. It continues to put me in this hopeless cycle I feel like I'm trapped in. I skipped over two months of school and my parents don't know. I'm stressing and my anxiety is creeping, the only solution I'm currently seeing is suicide and that's part of the reason why I'm here. Hoping for a better alternative.
Still inside my room. Still empty with my future, not sure what I'm doing. I feel like I'm losing my mind and I feel like I've never been different Thought it was better, I was heavily mistaken. The shit I work with, mentally forsaken and taken to misdirection, planning my demise. I'm a terrible place and feeling like my life is worthless. Feeling like the skin I'm confined in is something I shouldn't deal with. Feeling like the nearest cliff is my destination. The thoughts of suicide riddle my mind. Yet I continue to pretend that it's all fine and whatever. Sacrificing my time to waste my life. The same life I sacrifice to waste my time. A common cycle where I'm so sick of myself. The self hate I rehearse is same day same delivery. I know I'm not special or out of the blue. I'm aware everyone has their own individual problems too. Don't give me your sympathy, my mind will twist your words of empathy into weapons to impale my self worth with. Every compliment I've received has been twisted by my mind and rearranged into something self deprecating. The amount of self respect is borderline worthless. I reflect on every regret and mistake I've ever made, I can't escape my head.
I wish my very existence would just shatter. I don't have the energy to work as if I matter. So much dedication put into breaking myself down. The fact that I forget to eat and drink means a failure of a normal human being, but if it was anyone else I'd be supportive. Why can't I act like I'm also a human living with a purpose? My emotions are lost and now I hold little sympathy. My care for others has dwindled down significantly. My mind is mad and sickening, I wish I could end it peacefully.