I’ve been dealing with depression my whole life.
Having an actual label for it about 6 years.
I’ve always experienced highs and lows growing up and never gave it much thought. Days where the comfort of my bed was the only thing I could do as I laid with my thoughts of taking up useful space in the world are all bit familiar.
I never really felt like I belonged anywhere including my own family.
The older I got the more it became apparent that I was not alone in these thoughts. Seemed far fetched, but it was comforting knowing that others were dealing with the same thing.
Currently I’m about three decades into this whole life thing, and I’m done. Every morning waking up to my alarm is a disappointment because I’m still alive. The universe has decided to grant my being another morning. Which if we are being honest I find to be some kind of cosmic joke because how can a nobody with nothing to offer continue on in this world when so many others with more to give have been granted access into the dark abyss that is nothing.
When do I get my access to nothing?
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I have come to the conclusion that life is like a protracted skydive from the birth canal to the grave. Three decades in, I am already weary. Fatal projectiles hit me from all directions and I am just mid-flight. I thought I’d take myself out at 30 but here we are. I identify with what you are going through.