Sorry for the sob story
I convince myself that my anxiety and sadness is the result of something specific. Paying off college debts, fixing my car, moving out of my parents, getting into the college I want, but when I get those specific things I’m happy. Then I realize that that isn’t what was making me sad, and I fall even harder and become even more sad. I’m in this constant cycle of finding something to explain my sadness and anxiety cause I’m too afraid to admit that I’m just anxious and sad. All I want to do is run away, anywhere. Far from here I want to start over. Maybe a fresh start would make me happy or maybe I just say that cause I know I’ll never do that so it’s a good thing to blame my sadness on. Cause there can’t be a fall if I don’t achieve the thing then realize that that wasn’t the thing. I’m beginning to think I just won’t ever feel like myself again. And that momentary happiness is what I live for. I’m exhausted though. I don’t know how much longer I can bend before I just shatter all together. I wake up and I don’t know the person in the mirror anymore. I wake up and I can’t even pick out an outfit because nothing in my closet feels like me. What happened to the person who was so comfortable in anything, could come up with weird outfits but was so okay with it. What happened to the person who knew exactly what she wanted. I want her back, whoever she is. She was pretty cool. I don’t like whoever I am. My life isn’t hard. I have it pretty good, better than a lot of people. I think guilt falls on a lot of people with depression because we’re constantly screaming at ourselves that we have no reason to be sad, that life could be so much worse, and that we should be thankful and happy. I guess that’s the cruel joke. My brain is chemically fucked and biologically messed up, so it isn’t my fault that I feel these things. My brain is depressed but my brain also tells me I shouldn’t be. Where’s the logic in that? If there is a god this is a pretty lame and messed up thing to let someone go through. I tell my self that I should end my life but I never could, I tell myself that pain is what I deserve so I cut myself, I tell myself that I’m worthless, stupid, lazy, and that I will never be successful. I also tell myself to prove myself wrong. I am in a constant battle everyday, with myself. It’s exhausting, and I’m over it.