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All day long
Either I’m fighting to stay alive as my body tries to kill me or I’m battling my depressed mind that wants me to kms. Regardless another day comes and goes
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No reason
What makes the depression heavy is the guilt knowing I have no right to be depressed. I have no right to show or speak on my depression because I have nothing bad going on. My life is considered good so I keep quiet. Unfortunately it doesn’t change how depressed I feel.
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The worst part about surviving it all is the chronic health issues that follow
I’m still suffering everyday What was the point of surviving Death has never seemed so sweet
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I want to be taken care of
I’m tired. I deal with so many things constantly while also suppressing my wants, needs and feelings to make everyone else comfortable. No one cares about my comfort. No one shows me the attention when I speak, the rare moments that I do, like I show everyone else. No one else figures out or handles…
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Dark Fantasy
I think I fetishize my suffering and misfortune. To the point where when I really sit back and think about my life and where I am – it’s pretty good. It is good. Life could truly be so much worse in many ways. I get angry saying I’m just settling and convincing myself that this…
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There is nothing special about you
People battle chronic illnesses and die everyday. That’s just life. We all will die. How you end up dying is nothing special. Whether you suffer for a long period or not – doesn’t matter. It happens to everyone. Embrace the inevitable. *by “you” I mean me. Speaking purely to myself here*
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Open Wound
Although you said it was a joke – I’m going to be honest – I don’t think I’ll be able to come back from this. Unfortunately, you hit the deepest wound I have. Feeling like people don’t care. You were the only one I felt like cared about me. What I had to say or…
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Mallory
When I was in high school, I learned that cats hide away from their owners when they are sick and know they are dying. They hide away to die privately. I’m trying to follow suit, but it’s hard pushing people away. I don’t want your help. You can’t help me. I don’t want to hurt…
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Suffering
I hear everyone just working away and I’m literally suffocating over here. I can’t swallow, gasping. Taking deep breaths. I can’t do this anymore. “I just want to be normal.” I think as I hold back tears at my desk. Death would be so sweet.
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Underlying Issue
How is it when I fantasize about ending it all – my main concern is how do I make the clean up the least amount burdensome…
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Beauty and Chaos 