I want it to end

Ever since I was 13, I’ve had varying cycles of depression. They used to be pretty mild, nothing to make me want to do anything irrational. But my depression reached an all time high last year when I was 16, and I seriously consider suicide every day for a long time. The only reason I’m still alive is because I was too afraid of the physical pain.

The reason why my depression spiked was because I had found out that my best friend never had any trust in me at all and that she never really cared about me. I also began having confusion with my sexuality and came to admit to myself that I had loved her. I felt wrong- I wasn’t supposed to feel that way. I started having recurring dreams about her after she moved away and I couldn’t not think about her. My family is Mormon, so I was terrified about my sexuality and my future.

I started realizing all of the mistakes I’d made in my life and seeing that really only my family and my one friend cared about me. I hated myself. I hated seeing myself in the mirror. I stopped caring about everything. My grades dropped. I hated church, God, the ridiculously giddy and happy people at church, but my parents wouldn’t listen and made me go, they still do. I kept losing friends because I didn’t have the energy anymore to reach out, to be around people.

this has been continuing for the past year. Things got a little better a few months ago, but now I’m back in the same rut. I gained all the weight back that I’d lost last year, I feel like a pig. I hate myself.

One of the biggest things I’m struggling with right now is looking ahead, seeing how things could get better. My dream is to be a manga artist, and I’ve been trying to improve my drawing for four years. But if you’re familiar with the subject, you know how extremely difficult it is for a foreigner to become a Japanese manga artist. I hardly know any Japanese. My art sucks. And if I don’t reach my dream, then what? I don’t see myself getting married. I only want to be an artist, and I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t be that. I hate the world and art is the way I escape.

I can’t find an ounce of motivation within myself anymore, even to do the simplest of things. I cant take care of my body, I’m a poor student, I don’t spend any time with friends. I’ve tried taking antidepressants, but they just made it worse. I’ve gone to a therapist, they didn’t help at all. I’ve tried talking to my parents, they won’t listen to me. I don’t feel close enough to any friends to talk to them about it. I’m tired. I’m tired of trying. I’m sick of being a pessimist, always being depressed. I’m exhausted from addiction. I want to die, but I’m afraid of throwing away what I could possibly have someday. The “what if”s keep me here, but I’m starting to care less and less about those. I need to escape the pain. No one cares.