Suffocating is how it feels. I am drowning in every breathe I take. It’s not getting better, maybe for some of us this is the best it gets. I am not a genuine person, I lie so people don’t see me. I lie so people like me. I lie so people don’t see what a colossal fuck up I am. To the people I am myself to, I feel like a burden. Like they’re only my friends out of pity. I am pitiful. This anxiety makes me weak and it steers me into making bad decisions. I don’t blame anyone or anything because I know that everything is my fault. I have been fighting myself for years, I think I’m just ready to throw in the towel. Some people will cry, but life goes on. People move on. Selfish or not, I need to be euthanized from this mental disease that only makes me sicker by the day. If mental illness can be terminal then I am stage 4. I am weak, and I am my depression that I am consumed with. I thank God for everyday he’s given me, but I think this is the end of the road for me. Happiness isn’t meant for people like me, I’m just here to bring happiness to others. Pretending I’m okay is exhausting, waking up everyday is a challenge. I just need to go to sleep now, and hope god has mercy on me and takes me in his arms while I dream restlessly in the night.