I don’t want to be here anymore.

I don’t know if I will be alive tomorrow. It’s all just so pointless and I can’t keep living like this, and it’s all so hard.

I get up in the morning, drag myself out of bed and try my best to function as a human being. But its always so hard to do anything. I first noticed that I stopped feeling anything positive 3 months ago, I just stopped caring about the “meaning” that everyone talks about. “Why don’t you go out with your friends?”, “I thought you loved what you were doing at uni but it seems like you aren’t interested anymore”, ” Maybe if you put yourself out there then people will want to be around you more”.

What the hell do my family expect me to do? I’m constantly anxious and afraid, the only reason I leave the house is for work and uni. But even then I still wonder why I do that. Nights are the worst because all that occupies my mind is are thoughts about better times, or how much of a piece of shit I am.

I don’t have any self-esteem, I genuinely can’t look at my life and see anything worth while. Other people glow, they are so well formed and expressive with others, they are almost colourful. But then I have to wake up and look in the mirror and see the equivalent of white noise. I hate myself more then any of my friends could ever know.

It’s not that they don’t try to help me. My long time friend, who is more of a brother to me keeps saying the same thing; “busy people are happy people!”. Sometimes I hear him say that and I get so irritated. He’s tall, blonde and always brimming with confidence despite him having a disability. He has a girlfriend and everyone around him loves him to death.

Then there’s me.   I’m not special, my introversion and anxiety make it so hard to do anything. And even if I were lucky enough to get someone who wants to spend time with me or even be intimate, what happens when they see my shithole of a room? My self harm scars? The empty bottles of whiskey? Or perhaps the worst being what I think about everyday.

I look at myself everyday and wonder when I’m going to have the guts to face the day, or to just get it over and done with and commit.

In short I want to hate myself and want to die. There’s so much more I want to type but I have work tomorrow.

I’ll try and get through it, but if its too much then I’ll have to let go. I’m just too tired of it.