Why?

Why? Why is it that I feel useless? Why is it that people always find it so incredibly easy to leave me behind? I really don’t understand why I could possibly be so fucking useless and so hopeless that opening my eyes of a morning is the first and worst mistake I make of the day.
People always say “It’s a phase; you’ll grow out of it” or “You’re not really that sad, are you?” or, my personal favourite “I understand, you will be fine”
I wont be fine. I wont grow out of it. I am really that sad. It is such a challenge just to get out of bed and try to cope with the prickling that eats my throat away all day, and the cement at the bottom of my gut. I don’t know how or why I bother. I don’t even know what I’m doing here, but I suppose that if there were anyone who’d understand, it would be you reading this. Well, certainly better than any fuckwit in a psychiatrist’s office. Part of me wants to be here. Part of me wants to wake up next to someone, or have friends around for a weekend barbecue. But my headspace is just fucked. I go to sleep wanting to not wake up and I hate myself with a passion when I do. I know this makes no sense, but I suppose people here might think it’s better than what I had in store for tonight.