I have been severely depressed for several years. I began to think I was bi polar because it would be unbearable for a few months then it would be manageable for a few months then unbearable for a few years etc etc. However apparently with bipolar you get to feel maniacally happy for a small period of the time. Lucky bastards. I broke up with the first person I ever truly loved, due to an occurrence of cheating (on his part) which broke me. Up until this point, I had been getting better. Slowly becoming more active and happier. He managed to destroy my entire self worth, self esteem and confidence based on the stupidest tryst with the stupidest slut I’ve ever seen. He later proceeded to blame me because I’m actually a whore. I know I’ll never find a connection with someone like I did him, and I don’t care. Even someone like him couldn’t love me. I tried so hard, to no avail, to make him like me. Slowly and continuously proving to myself how little he truly cared about me all along. The strongest form of rejection isn’t someone saying no, it’s someone saying yes because they can’t be bothered. He only stayed because I gave him sex whenever he wanted. That’s all anyone wants from me. I used to be ugly and had a lot of guy friends. Now I can say I am objectively attractive (or at least I hope so, otherwise these men just want me for someone to disrespect). Since breaking things off with this boy, I’ve begun self medicating, whoring myself, cutting myself and plotting my eventual demise. Additionally I have been lucky enough to be raped twice since our breakup. Let me tell you that when you’re not even sure whether or not you were raped, you probably need to look in the mirror and start respecting yourself. I’ve just begun to realise how none of this is worth it at all. Things won’t get better, they just won’t. Even if they do, I can’t live with myself for the things I’ve done or the things that have happened to me. I hope to slowly starve myself to death during winter. I’ve heard about the survival instinct kicking in, I feel confident that I will be able to ignore it for a few days until I perhaps contract hypothermia. There is no point to doing anything. No point in trying. I am happy with my decision, and I hope I am subtle enough in my starvation that my friends and family only think I was physically unwell.