Nothing, no one, nowhere, why me?

i have thought about why i am still living. and i came up with; i am here for my baby brother. i never had a reason to be happy. but now i do. i spend all my time with him, we are always with eachother. i dont wanna let him suffer. so i shall stay for him(:

I am sick to death of my stalker. Just wish I could kill him and his stupid ugly girlfriend somehow. They are ruining my life. They got me fired and now they are preventing me from getting out of my pathetic situation. They are finding ways to bill me for every penny I have. I know I can never get hired because I figured out they broke into my email and blocked my job applications that I sent out. I want to go for retraining but they will probably prevent me from doing that too so all I can do is kill myself to stop eating up my parents’ resources. I wish I could be brave and just do it; I know I have enough pills but I really don’t want to do it here at my parents’ house. Maybe I’ll walk out to a field and do it there.

I have been through so much in my life. I feel like I’m not needed/ wanted her on the earth. I feel like I should be better than I am. Idk why I am here. I’m sorry, but idk what I should do. I don’t even know why I’m putting this out her, but I feel like I can’t talk to my friends about this. I’m really stressed out. I feel fat and ugly…. In need some help:/

I never used to be so sad, i remember only two years ago i was so happy laughed every day and meant it but now the very thoguht of smiling, makes me feel pain in my heart actual physical pain. its not that i want to exactly die no, i know i canhave a great life i know, but you stop me
my mother you stop me, you don’t let me leave this prison of a house you want me here all the same, you very own prisoenr that you can control that you can manipulate to do everything you say
and now i finally have some one who cares about me? but how can i return it if you give me no chance to have something of my own
i have been a good daughter, i deserve freedom i deserve love
but under your hold i grow to hate everyone everyone i loved i hate i resent, i long to be them to have every oucne of freedom they have to feel true happiness just once, just for even a day
I love him but you won’t let me
i need to be free, but now its seems the only way to do that is to leave
leave the world, or leave this prison is the choice i must make.

I’ve been asking myself this often… What am I doing? Still here. Still in shambles. Still hurting. Why? Now that’s a good question right there. I’m still here for others, others I don’t want to hurt and that I want to support. I’m in shambles because I put myself here, I’ve destroyed myself and lost myself in the chaotic order of my mind. I’m hurting because well I don’t know what else to do, because maybe that’s how I want it.

I don’t know, I guess I’ve been struggling lately. Why is it that even though I care for others and their well being, I cannot stay sane and be better for them? They can. I must be defective. Maybe I’m heartless and I don’t care – but saying that hurts, so I must. Then I’m weak. I’m stubborn in all the wrong ways; stuck in my depression, unwilling to be swayed. All I can give are excuses and dodges.

I don’t want help I guess. Helping me ends up with the helper hurt. I don’t want to let anyone in, I want to suffer alone and take the suffering from them too – not to hurt them. They may say I don’t, but I know I cause pain and I hurt them. They’re just being kind. I’m a burden not worth carrying, because I’m one that seemingly won’t ever be able to carry myself – I don’t deserve it. Leave me be. Maybe I’ll gather what little dignity I have left and finally go.

I’m sorry. Hell …

Whether my friends and family understand or not, I will continue living life with this deliberate silence and social withdrawal. I am tired of this ludicrous society and all the senseless responsibilities it has been laying down on my doorstep. All I want is to be locked up inside my house and never feel obligated to open up for anything or anybody. All I want is to drop everything I’m carrying hard on the floor and never regret.

I don’t really have time to lick my wounds.What I would give to dive into a bender and just fuck everything off and deal with it tomorrow.

I just feel flat.

Some days I feel tragedy crushing down. The sadness overwhelms. I know life isn’t supposed to be fair. I’m not a complete idiot. But it really doesn’t have to be so suprememly unfair.

I have a commitment problem. I can’t commit to anything – a boyfriend, a job, a country to live in.

I don’t know what I am supposed to be doing here.

I don’t know where I’m supposed to be going.

Most days it’s ok to be lost. Other days it’s fucking terrifying.

I don’t know what you want from me. I’m not sure I should care.

ugh.

I have major depressive disorder and social anxiety/borderline avoidant personality disorder.

I was going to go to group therapy. I never did.

I was seeing a counselor. I stopped going.

I take an anti-depressant. It helps a lot but not enough I guess. Less anxiety and less pain but that isnt enough.

I live a solitary life. I am like a hermit. I barely speak to people. I avoid women. Don’t make eye contact, speak as little as possible. If they seem to like me, become vaguely hostile…put up those old barriers. Whatever it takes. Because it hurts and they can hurt me more. But all I really want is to reach out and make a connection. Inside I am desperate to but I know I can’t. Not ever.

Maladaptive day dreaming. It’s a term, look it up.

Escape. I escape into my head. I live a thousand lives there. It isn’t enough. It is not real and never will be. I try to avoid that thought. It terrifies.

Drugs.

Narcotics are an escape. I feel good physically, and briefly feel better emotionally. But there is the other side, the down. Harder and harder to take the down.

Games. Television. Film. Books. Escape. Escape. Escape.

There is no escape. When the dream is over, when the high comes down, when the game is done, when the credits roll, when the last page is turned…..I am still me. I can’t escape myself.

I used to think I hated the world. I know now it was myself I hated. Hate.

“You play the hand you’re delt.”  But I never asked …

“Stan collymore tweeted the other day , depressed people don’t want to die , they they want to live but with a different life”
Not sure if I believe this is true what do you guys think?

Jules x