I’m a basic white girl who cuts herself. Or rather, I did. Ever since I got put on zoloft in January after my parents found out I sh’d, my life has steadily improved and I have strengthened my relationships with friends and even my family. I no longer wallow in my own sadness or make suicide plans.
I miss it. I miss being depressed so much. I don’t know why; I never got any special attention while I was down in the dumps and I barely had any friends. I consider myself happiest when I’m unhappy. It’s stupid and ridiculous and feels selfish. But I just love being sad. Am I romanticizing mental illnesses? I have no clue what’s wrong with me but I haven’t taken my medicine in 5 days and just yesterday I was driving past a bridge and seriously considered pulling over and jumping off, and it was satisfying to have those thoughts back. I just cut for the first time in like 2 months.
I’m so messed up and I know it’s wrong to be sad but I don’t care.