…where I just don’t want to be alive anymore.
Yep. A random unexplained death would not even concern me. Time to draw and watch animu…
(sorry for the bleakness…but I find it helps to get this shit out.)
bout my depression.
But srsly…insomnia’s a complete and total beyotch
For everyone out there with enough mental stability to see themselves in a positive light from time to time, those of us with depression are often assaulted with phrases like
“If you can’t love yourself, how can you love somebody else?”
This doesn’t help things. At all. My natural self-loathing doesn’t just change because I will myself to deny it. I can say all the positive accolades I want. I spent years staring in the mirror and willing myself to happiness. Then I woke up and realized that it’s just not happening at this time in my life. I’ve tried dozens of relocations. Moving to where I thought I had good friends and job prospects that would bring me some kind of self-satisfaction. While I know in my mind that the things I tell myself aren’t true, my depression’s voice is always…always the loudest. Screaming the most hurtful things at me. What compounds the issue is that I’ve got voices telling me that my own words to myself aren’t true.
I made a compromise to myself in March of 2009 after my attempt on my life. That I’d pick up smoking in an attempt to quiet the voices in my head. Stunting my future for a chance at some peace in the present. Again. Not helping. This may or may not be a suicide note. I’m not sure yet, but as time progresses I can see myself wearing down. My determination is taking major blows as I combat myself each day. It hurts and I’m tired all the time. Disinterested and broken. I keep pushing people away because nobody should have to deal with the person I’m becoming. The meds aren’t helping, and I keep distracting myself in the worst ways. I just want to not be for a while. For a long while.
I hate myself for apparently no reason. Don’t tell anyone.