Where’s the light?

She lays in the floor
Back against the door
Tears run down her face
Black toughts take place

Death wispers in her ear
And she no longer have fear
Almoust over now
Just waiting to die somehow.

Sorry my english.
I’m 18 now.
I have social phobia.
I think I felt depressed all my life.
Since I remember, every single problem I had was transformed in a catastrophe in my head. It could be insignificant but in my head it was the worst thing.

I don’t know how to explain right now how I feel so I leave here some  entries of my kind of journal.

<02/09/09>
It’s unberable and we know that we can’t run from it, we know that we can’t run from ourselves. We can’t run from our brain and we can’t run from the thoughts that make us wish for death. We can’t and we know it. The same way we know that this will eat us alive and will left just our painfull minds in a sanitarium room waiting for the end of the day, waiting for the drugs that will temporarily scare our inside demons.

We know that we have no hope, we know that we lost it in the path. We know that nothing they can tell us will save us, will save our minds. We know it, as we know that they will never understand the pain that have haunted us everyday of our lives. They can’t understand it. And we know that we can’t explain it to them. We just can’t.

How can we desire live if we know that everyday will be just like this? How can we? Don’t ask us to do that. You couldn’t understand what are you asking for.
This won’t go away and we know that no one can help us, that no one can understand. We know that we can’t tell this to anyone. We know that they won’t ever understand the kind of pain we have in our minds. The accumulated pain of 17 years, the accumulated aches of all this time. The pain that came don’t know where but knew how to install and we never knew how to make it go away.

Now we don’t know what to do. And we know that we can do nothing to stop it. We need to live with all that wounding our souls and there’s nothing we can do. How can they ask us to stay? How can they ask us to talk to them? How can they ask all of that if they never experienced what we feel all the time?

They think they can do something to pacify our mental aches, but we know that it isn’t true. We know that. They think we’re exaggerating, they think is just a fase, they think that a walking in the park will make good to us, they think that a fun day will make good to us. They are so terrible mistaken.

We just want to be alone at the same time we don’t. We just want to be in bed all day long. We just want nothing to bother us. We just want no subjects or other people problems. We just want no news or new things. We just want nothing that we can’t control. We just want our peacefull bedroom and an icecream. We just want time to think how miserable we are. And we don’t let anyone tell us that we’re not. No one has the right to say that, no one.

We just want to be happy at the same time we don’t. We don’t know what to think or what to do. We don’t know what we want, what we desire. The only thing we know is that this hurts and suffocates and make us cry everyday, cursing the day we born.

When the panic attacks come, they crash all and leave nothing. In that minutes we lose all. It’s just… unbeareble. It’s the worst pain. These are the worst minutes of our lives. We lose it all. We lose our mind. We lose our rationality. We lose our faith. We lose our hopes. We lose our reflection. We lose our love. We lose our sight. We lose our senses.
The only thing we feel is the pain. The monstrous, colossal pain that buries us alive in that moment and we can’t run away from that suffocating feeling. Literally suffocating because the breathlessness is so real as this keyboard, and make us tremble with an excruciating fear. Just think about the feeling makes my heart racing. The panic is just to much real, is just to much… We just want to call to someone but soon we realize we can’t. We can’t call to anyone they wouldn’t understand. They’re sleeping. We need to get through this all alone. We need to be strong. We don’t need anyone. It’s our pain.

How can we stop it? We can’t. How can we deal with that? We can’t. We’re stuck in ourselves forever and we can’t get out. We can’t run.
What can they do to help? Be quiet and keep living their lives.
We will keep not living but surviving our.

Sometimes we just think about drugs and alchool but we can’t use them and the effects are not permanent. We’re trapped inside ourselves and there’s no way out. How can someone deal with that kind of pain? We could be happy. If we had a loaded gun. The idea of a loaded gun leaning to the head souds so damn good. It’s the only idea that now souds perfectly good. It’s bad but it’s true. How can we keep suffering like this anymore? How?

Sometimes they say this will end up anytime soon. I don’t think so. I don’t think that something like this will ever end. It’s to damn strong.
People sometimes just make it harder. Push us down when we’re already in the bottom. How can they do that? How can they be so feelingless?

But sometimes, just sometimes… the only thing we think we need it’s a hug from the person we couldn’t never forget. But that’s the most impossible thing in the world. So, we sat in the dark all alone waiting for the happiness that never came and never will come.
Sometimes we think the loneliness is the problem. But them we realize that this will never go away, even if we were happy. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe the brain is protecting himself from the true. I don’t know. I just can’t know.

<03/09/09>
How can I get throught this new year? The school starts in about 1 week. I don’t want. I don’t need it. This will hurt to much. I can’t handle it. I really can’t. I don’t know how to deal with all those people.
Make it stop.
I don’t want it. I want my bed. I want my loneliness. I want my dark bedroom. I want my sweet bedroom.
I don’t know what to do!
I’m feeling so bad.
I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to stay. This anguish kills me. This agony is so strong.
This agony is so real.
This agony. The perfect word to discribe it. To discribe what I feel all the time. An terrible agony chewing my insides.
Agony.
Agony.
Agony.
Agony.
Agony.
Just an awful agony.

<04/09/09>
Sometimes I feel so scared. So mortal. So lonely. So fragile. Sometimes the nights are so hard.
Why can’t I just relax? Why can’t I just have a pacific moment in my head? Why can’t I just stop thinking? Why can’t I just stop the fear in my head? Why can’t this stop? Why? Why? Why can’t I feel safe now? Here in my room? What’s wrong with me? I don’t want to feel this. I can’t feel this.
The agony is back. I don’t know what to do.
It’s all ok. Why can’t I just relax? I’m freaking out.

<27/12/09>
Today… today I woke up and I start crying.
My mother woke me up and then I realise that I couldn’t be awake because my mind was killing me like always. So, I tried to fall asleep again but there was to much noise… maybe not, but I felt really bad. And I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t be wake up either… So I cry in agony…
I just can’t stand my mind.

I’m being tortured by myself and I can’t run away. What should I do now?
This is becoming really umberable. Really, really.
I just need some drugs… some pills to make me forget my mind for one sec. Just want to stay quiet without thoughts, without people, without me.
Tonight, I just want to open my window and sit against the outside wall feeling the rain in my face, in my body… trying to find my peace of mind.
Just want to stare at the rising sun and feel the brightness piercing my weak body and taking me gently up to the clouds.
I just want some peace of mind.

________
I’m 18.
I never had a boyfriend.
I don’t have money to get out of my house and go live in some other place.
I’m in last year of highschool and I understood that I’m in the wrong area and so I can’t go to university because theres no area I’d like, but even if theres something I would like , my parents couldn’t afford it.
There’s no psychiatrist in my area, and probably the meds would be too expensive.
And then there are more little things that kills me inside.
I’m just tired.