4 years of depression….. People tell me to get over it. Enjoy life. Enjoy time with my friends and family. Talk to god. Yeah. I’ll always do those things. But it’s never enough to say that “I’m better now” “I survived from this illness” “I’m okay now”. I’m sorry if I’m like this. I’m sorry if I can’t recover. Even myself can’t help me. I won’t ever be fixed, and I’m sorry for that. I think people are thinking that I’m weak because I’m not doing an effort to get better. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for being a coward. For being pathetic. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if I can’t help myself. I’m sorry for being like this. I’m sorry for being depressed. And I’m sorry because I’m crying right now. I’m sorry for putting self harm scars. I’m sorry for thinking about suiciding many times. I’m sorry if I can’t recover from this. And I’m sorry if someday you will heard the news that I died from suicide. I’m sorry for being like this. I’m sorry…..
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4 comments
Don’t be sorry my dear. Depression is one hell of an illness. I’m sorry that you have people just telling you to get over it. Yes, there are steps to take to alleviate the symptoms, but that doesn’t get rid of it. I feel like accepting it is the first step. “I have depression, so what am I going to do about it?” There are many great, and usually free, options when it comes to getting help and treatment. Don’t be afraid to ask, because I’m sure most people would rather you be embarrassed by asking for help than dead.
Get over depression, yeah, as if it was so fucking simple, just get over it. Fuck people, fuck normal people who hasn’t got any mental illness, fuck their normal life, and fuck their advice about just getting over.
@nonexistant: how are you doing? Sounds like you are going through a really tough time and are being awful to yourself. Be gentle on yourself, mental illness, including depression, is a disease. You wouldn’t yell and blame someone for being diabetic right? This is much the same. Do you have a doctor?
I don’t have a doctor. No one knows about my depression except for some friends. Even my family don’t know about this. How am I doing? I don’t know. I feel nothing. I feel lifeless. I can’t say that I’m okay. But I’m used to being like this.