It’s like there’s a slug inside me that comes out to suck away my life. Whenever anything happens, it’s like a darkness taking it and a part of me along with it away and it just leaves me feeling numb. I don’t see the point in anything anymore, I have no motivation. I cry empty tears; I feel nothing with them, but I can’t stop myself. At the same time I feel everything, acutely, sharp like a knife. I want to do well, I want to succeed, but I don’t see why and I don’t care to try. It seems as if somebody cut me, leaving a great gash and I’m bleeding and afraid, yet it doesn’t matter, because I’m not important, I’m just going to die anyway, what does it matter when? I want to ask people a million questions, why they are a part of my life, but I feel like I don’t deserve to ask, like I would be such an inconvenience- why should I get to know that? I feel like I need help, but who would care? I’d just be such a burden to whoever I talk to and then my mum would find out- she already feels bad enough about herself and she would blame herself for who I’ve become. Sometimes I just think I’m being selfish and whiny – there are so many people out there with horrific lives and I should be grateful for what I have.
2 comments
You won’t be a burden talking here. We get it.
Having things to be grateful for doesn’t seem to ease depression much. Rich, successful, privileged, beautiful, healthy, talented people kill themselves. Being grateful for things is good but not if it becomes just another stick to beat ourselves with and make us feel guilty for feeling how we feel.
When ever I have a question I ask. Even if I will not like the answer, I’d rather die knowing. You can be unknowingly happy or knowingly unhappy. I understand which ever one people might choose.
bruiseviolet put it in a very good way. People are here to listen, it’s not a competition of who has it worse. Pain is pain.