In The End…

Hi. Call me Destiny.
I know horrible things. I know devastation, pain, loss, earthquakes. I know secrets. Secrets of people that I shouldn’t even know exist. I’m sorry.
A little about me:
My name is not really Destiny. I’d prefer to stay incognito on here. I’m not ashamed of my depression. I’ve had a severe depression for four years. “THIS is the worst of it,” I’d always say, and then it would just decline. Now that it’s been almost (not quite) a year, I can honestly say that last summer was undoubtedly, 100% as bad as it had ever gotten.
I’ll give you the quick version: I’ve been hiding my depression from everyone since it developed, but last summer I wanted to use my experience to help people. I couldn’t risk being seen, so I went on under an alias. I met so many hurt, pained people. I saved them all from suicide many times. And they saved me. This was something I had never anticipated. I had thought that I had been doing great. If you’ve ever been with 130 severely suicidal people almost 24/7, you’ll understand how triggering it is…
I also never anticipated the emotional bond that would form between myself and some of them. We all became quite good friends, and my identity was never questioned. I loved them all from the depths of my heart. Again with the triggering, though; of course it resulted in my cutting and planning suicide more than I ever had before, and it was different then, when you had people who KNEW it was happening and cared. It broke me in ways that I never want to know again. But I don’t want to let go of it. I had to leave. I had to leave them all, and I still keep an eye on them, but they don’t know where I went. I don’t know what else to say, so I’m going to wrap it up.
There’s so little reason for me to be alive now.
I don’t think of much, but I still think of them every single day of my life, and it reminds me of the best and worst time of my life.
I love you, Jordan. I love you, Caleb. I love you, Kai. I love you, Kira. I love you, Nameless. I love all of you, and all of the others. I love you. In the end, it doesn’t matter, but in the end, I love you more than I’ve ever loved myself.
I love you all so much. I love whoever is reading this. I love them to the end of the earth and back.
I don’t want to live. There is nothing. But still I’m here. It’s the depression in me hatching again, feeling the exact same way I have for the past four years. It’s not as bad as it has been, but it’s going everywhere but up.
In the end, it doesn’t matter, though,
In the end, all that’s important is that I love you.
All of you.