I’m here again because I have nowhere else to be.
These past couple years, my life has really gone downhill. I don’t know why. I keep trying to fix things and make my life better, but it feels like every single choice I make is the wrong one. It only gets worse. Everytime I think that it’s the worst life can get, things get worse. And worse. And it never stops.
I tried making friends, I tried eating healthier, I tried exercising and being outside more, I tried alcohol, I tried drugs, I tried therapy. It doesn’t work. It’s just not working and I feel so fucking bad all of the time.
During this past year, to the fault of no one else but me, I have lost my will to live. I switch between anxiety that wakes me up in the middle of the night and takes away my hunger and keeps my heart pounding in my chest, or depression that carves this hole in my chest and bleeds me dry of any happiness or peace. That’s all I have. When I’m not either of those things, I am angry. I get irritated at everything for no reason. It doesn’t matter
Nothing matters anymore.
I applied to so many jobs because I wanted to make my life better after I fucked up applying for school. In one week, I bombed the interviews I managed to get. And I know, maybe I should give it more time, but it feels like I only give this time and that makes it worse. I’m such a fucking failure.
I failed as a daughter, a sister and a wife. I feel like this shitty person. I’m not getting better. I don’t think this was ever going to get better.
That’s how long I’ve wanted to die. That’s how long depression has followed me.
I really did try, okay? I really did. I have been fighting this darkness for so long, I can’t even remember what being happy would look like for me. I don’t know what my life would be like.
There’s no future for me. It’s better like this, even if you don’t agree. I won’t hurt any of you any longer. I wish I wasn’t such a disappointment. I wish I did things differently.
But I didn’t. And at the end of the day, I’m still here.
I can’t bring myself to do anything most days. When I try to get something done, it goes wrong. Maybe I’m being extra negative, but you try waking up at three in the morning because your anxiety is too bad to sleep. You try being so stressed and anxious for no reason you can’t eat without puking. You try messing up every task that day, people pulling you aside to correct you, you try watching doors close to opportunities that would make your life better because you’re not enough. You try always making the wrong decisions, believing and hoping they’re the right ones. You try being so fucking emotionally and physically exhausted, the moment you sit down you start to cry because there’s nothing left for you to do.
You try, okay? You fucking do it for eleven years. See if you don’t try and kill youself too.
All of the therapy, all of the medications and meditations and hope boxes and safety plans all crumbling to dust and nothing. When suddenly the talks switch from getting better to management, to just trying to manage a baseline on your suicidal thoughts. Knowing that this will follow you forever, all you can do is apply coping skills and push this off until the next moment, until you finally get the balls to finish the job.
I never regretted trying to kill myself. I only ever regretted waking up.
Maybe you can understand now.
I’m so mad. I’m so angry and I can’t stop. Everyone said, for fucking years, that it would get better.
Just hold on, it will get better! Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I’m sure you’ve all heard these phrases.
Well, it didn’t. Not for me. It’s only ever gotten worse. Why the fuck am I still here? I’m sorry for being negative, but we all die anyway, so why am I supposed to hold on? Especially when everything is getting worse, my depression is chronic, and nothing is helping? How long, exactly, was it supposed to take for this to pass?
Is eleven years out of your timeframe? Oh, sorry. Yeah, I can’t believe I’m still alive either, and its not for lack of trying!
I’m so tired, you know? I really, really wanted this to go away. I feel like I’m staring death right in the face, and I’m still trying to haul my ass out of this hole, but its only pulling me in deeper.
I just needed to get this off my chest. And maybe someone out there understands? Because sometimes I feel like I’m the only one, and people look at me like I’m insane. I just need someone who understands, who gets it.