For the past three months I’ve been a recluse. I was in college, excited about life, happy, and i was in control of my depression. Now I’m too depressed to continue school, scared of the future, want no future, and I just don’t have the will to live. I don’t want to continue life. I’ve been suffering and I’ve tried to manage my depression with medication, therapy, and alternative treatments. I’m honestly willing to electrocute myself to cure my suffering. I spend my days at home playing with my dogs and watching tv. My therapist and psychiatrist are pushing me to get back into the world, by starting a job or at least volunteering at a shelter. But I just can’t. I can’t force myself to do anything. I can’t force myself to leave my house. I don’t know whether it’s because I’m scared of having a panic attack or scared of what other people think because when ever I do go out I just feel so uncomfortable and I just want to go home. So I’ve been trying to go on daily walks with my dogs. Trying.. I went for a walk in the woods with my two dogs today and I almost had a panic attack in the middle of the woods. I was so scared. I made it back to my house and took a shower, but I couldn’t stop the anxiety. I have nothing to be anxious about. Absolutely nothing.
I won’t commit suicide because I’m too afraid of the physical pain. I’m not scared of dying and I want to die. But I know it’s not realistic unless I find a sedative and person that would kill me.
With all my free time I’ve been trying to do what I love so I can find the will to live, but I don’t like doing anything anymore. My guitar and piano are covered with dust and I can’t seem to make art. I don’t love anything anymore. I don’t speak to my friends and I don’t love my family. I have nothing to live for. People say that my friends and family need me, but, and I know this sounds selfish, I don’t care. The pain i just too much. I have nothing to live for. I am only living because apparently I’m not allowed to die. Even though it’s my life therefore it should be my decision. People may think I’m sick, and maybe I am, but there is no cure so why should I suffer. I’ve been on anti-deppressants for four years and I’ve had an abundance of therapists, and psychiatrists. I’ve tried so hard to get rid of my depression, but now I’m tired and I don’t want to try anymore. So I will continue to live, but I will NEVER force myself to do anything. If I’m going to live, I might as well live as comfortably as I can. And although I can’t commit suicide that doesn’t stop me from wanting to die.