I can’t take it anymore.

  October 12th, 2017 by towardthelight

I don’t think I can continue this life anymore. I’ve been struggling with anxiety for about 6 years and major depression for 2 years.

I only have a couple friends. They are my only friends, but we don’t see each other much because one of them works a lot, and the other lives a state away.

It feels like I’m wasting my life away. I haven’t done anything spectacular or fun. I’ve never dated anyone. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never had a large group of friends. I’ve always been the outcast, the invisible one, the freak.

No one really cares about me. I know they say that they do, and a part of me wants to believe them. At the same time, I’ve been betrayed and lied to, and my trust is thin with everyone around me.

School has been stressing me out and making my mental state worse. I’ve missed a few doses of my antidepressants (my fault, really) but I don’t even think they’re working anymore.

My entire school has tried raising awareness for mental health, but it feels like a complete joke. People write generic words of encouragement like, “It’ll be okay,” or “You are loved,” but it feels so forced that it disgusts me. Some teachers have even been caught making jokes of mental illnesses.

I know my school’s goal was to make everyone feel secure and cared for, but it didn’t work for me. I just felt like I was dying inside little by little, watching everyone trying to understand mental illness and destigmatize things. I felt like I was a pariah because it dawned on me that mental illness is misunderstood because most people don’t have to battle it on a daily basis.

My own mother has told me that she doesn’t care if I died anyway. In her mind, everyone dies, and when that time comes, it comes. She said that she’d be sad for some time, but that she’ll learn to grieve and accept it. My parents have a $15,000 life insurance policy on me, every since I was a baby, just in case something happens.

I wonder every day what it’d be like if I wasn’t plagued with mental illnesses. It could have been worse – I could have been born with severe learning disabilities, physical disabilities, etc as a result of being born extremely premature, but I just wish I didn’t have my own mind tell me that I’m not worth anything to anyone.

I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything hurts. I’m lonely, incredibly lonely, and I’m insignificant to anyone around me. Even my friends can probably live their lives without me.

Every friend I’ve had has ditched me and I’ve told my friend so much about my mental health that if I tell her I want to kill myself, she’d get sick of me complaining about how terrible my life is, and push me away. She’d probably think that I’m saying that to get attention, since I always tell her fucked-up things about my mental state. I tell her so much that I’m afraid that she’ll stop believing me, but everything I say, she is the only person I can trust with that information.

I love my friend. She’s the only person that listens to me and takes me seriously. My family can’t do that. Everything I say to them goes in one ear and out the other or they make me feel invalidated.

I just don’t want my friend to think that I’m an attention seeker. I’m terrified of saying the wrong things to her, but at the same time, she’s the only one that I feel comfortable telling. I’ve told her things that I would never tell anyone else, but I wonder if she’s ever gotten sick of me for it. I wonder if she’s ever wanted to quit talking to me because of it.

I guess I don’t want to be a burden on her.

I’m scared to tell her the true state of my mental health. She knows about all of my mental disorders, but she doesn’t know the extent of them all, or how far they have pushed me. I try my best to not let my mental illnesses show around her or bring them up anymore because I don’t want her to pity me or be sad.

I’ve never actually severely harmed myself nor have I ever attempted suicide, but the thoughts of suicide are increasing with each stressor of mine, and with each little thing.

It sounds ridiculous, but the workload of school makes me anxious, depressed, and therefore suicidal. Honestly, that’s never happened to me before. Normally, those thoughts never occur due to school.

I know it’s foolish to take your own life over schoolwork, but it’s so overwhelming that my anxiety spikes. My anxiety is the worst mental disorder of all that I have. It’s the one that I’ve struggled with the longest and the demon that I have yet to conquer.

Other than school, I either sleep all day, use the computer, or listen to music.

I don’t have anything to do besides that.

I quit my job because it was interfering with my schoolwork, even though my doctor suggested that I should get a job to help alleviate the emptiness and boredom that I feel inside.

I’m lost. I don’t know where to turn. Death feels like an escape from a dark, lonely life; however, one of the things holding me back is the fact that I don’t know what happens after death –  where I go or what I do.

I can’t keep all of this to myself anymore. I want to tell my friend; I just don’t know how she’ll take it. I don’t want to be whisked away to an expensive emergency room or sent off to a mental health facility because I don’t want people to assume I need immediate care. I don’t want people to assume I’m crazy.

Any ideas of how to tell my friend without bothering her? 

Sorry that I ranted and rambled so much.


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