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Addiction

by QuirkyFox

I’m starting to feel depressed again. I’m worried because this time I have nothing to feel depressed about. Besides my physical pain… Which I’m perpetuating with self abuse. I took the day off work today. I feel broken. My body is starting to die. My addictions have sucked the life from me. I have given myself entirely over to satisfying the insatiable. I would gladly die today, preferably by the hand of another. I don’t think it matters what The addiction is…Addictions destroy lives. I hate being an addict. I can’t stop, not until I am literally unable to move. Then I just collapse. I can’t live like this much longer.

I miss being told off. I miss being ignored. I miss being overlooked. I miss being put down and called stupid. I miss being made to feel worthless. I miss fighting for love.

Happiness is a lie. Darkness speaks the truth. I want to suffer again.

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3 comments

Salt 5/19/2015 - 9:45 am

Hey Quirky… I’m having a tough time here also, maybe it’s just something in the stars like a minor cosmic apocalypse or two. Taking the day off is a good idea if it gets you away from the “normal” world that can’t indulge you. But you might need to stay occupied so the opposite extreme doesn’t pull you deeper down. For what it’s worth check your email in exactly 4 hrs 02 mins (stupid computer is really slow rendering), might be an interesting little distraction….

Halcyon_Days 5/19/2015 - 12:04 pm

I take the day off work every day which I suppose makes me unemployed. If only there was a way to indulge in the kind of pleasure you have to pay for whilst being reclusive and very lazy. There has to be a way of combining those ingredients then maybe those who figure out the secret won’t be depressed and hopefully they will share their wisdom with the rest of us. I’ve frequented the forum for years and am yet to find the answer but my faith in you and all these other people in unwavering.

cephalus 5/27/2015 - 3:05 am

I often find myself a bit jealous of some stories I read. Many have fantastic reasons to feel the way they do. I find myself a bit ashamed and unable to express the agony of feeling depressed and not being able to point to anything, and say, “Aha! My Dear Watson! But, It wasn’t the gun! It was the horrible childhood!”.

I hope you are able to snap out of it. Sometimes it can go as quickly as it came.

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