Staring into the abyss.

Right now, it feels as though I am staring into an abyss, and I have no idea how to get out of it.

I’ve struggled with depression for the past thirteen years. (I’m 24 now.) I have an autistic spectrum disorder, on-and-off severe depression, and possible adult ADD. I’m a student, and don’t have the required education to work in a field that wouldn’t overload me to death, but I can’t just take “any job.” I haven’t had any success applying for long-term benefits because I’ve pretty much received no actual comprehensive help in dealing with these things, and I am TERRIBLE at managing paperwork, and I have problems expressing certain issues if I don’t know people, or if I have to “self-advocate” rather than having someone else help me with the process. I’ve pretty much stopped trying to comply with the benefits people, because many of their qualifications are actually impossible for me to do in my current situation, and are designed for, well, people who aren’t like me.

I feel as though there isn’t a place for me, or people like me, in this society. I feel as though my existence is entirely worthless, and I just don’t see the point. I reach out for help, and I get it in this sort of non-committal way that doesn’t seem to completely grasp exactly what I’m dealing with. People make it an issue of “responsibility,” when it’s NOT. It’s about the fact that I cannot do certain things and am NOT getting real help for it, so I tend to just shut down and not care as much, because it’s not worth it.

I’m being left to sink or swim, and I’m sinking. I’d just like to fucking drown already so I don’t have to deal with this any more.

I can’t talk about these sorts of things with even my closest friends, as I was deeply burned the last time I had severe suicidal ideations; some people had accused me of merely trying to manipulate them, and others just brushed my feelings off. And those who did try to console me…well, I don’t want to make other people deal with how bad I’m feeling, because it will make them feel worse, and I don’t want to make them worry about me, because I’ll be plagued with guilt for a) feeling bad; and b) burdening others with my emotions.

I don’t have a relationship with my “family”; they pretty much left me to sink or swim, disabilities notwithstanding. I also don’t want to tell anyone for fear that they’ll inform the police or send me to a mental hospital. I distrust the police, because they discriminate against young men of colour, and I have always been treated terribly by police, even though I’ve never done anything wrong. I also am terrified of mental hospitals, and don’t feel that being instititutionalised is going to make me want to live.

I want to dismantle my self-preservation instinct—which tends to kick into gear pretty strongly, even when it’s ill-advised, in my opinion—and finish what I’ve wanted to start for the past 13 years. I’d rather not be dead, but I’m just not seeing the damn point in holding on any more. My feelings might change, but right now, I’m incredibly despondent. I feel like I don’t deserve to live in the first place, so why even try? I’m a waste of oxygen. I deprive valuable resources from better people who aren’t broken like me.