it ain’t a particularly nice world or time; I’m exhausted and hopeless after a six-year long battle with severe depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts. It’s easy to say it’s been a long one. 10 plus weeks ago (around the time kids see ghosts came out) I tried to kill myself. I survived. anyone in their right mind would have gone to the doctors. I didn’t I procrastinated, crossed my fingers it’d get better.
Spoiler Alert: it didn’t. I went to an appointment eventually, a one-off therapist deconstructed me and suggested therapy, it was pointless in the grand scheme of things, two weeks later, I was numb on my bed, wishing I was dead.
Nothing changed, I still dreamt of sliced wrists and bloody baths, the worst things never do change, my mind still screams at me.
I’m too lazy to write a suicide note, and as far as I know this isn’t it, for months I’ve struggled to write, too afraid to put words down, so this is a shock to me to even be able to put down a hundred plus words.
The mental isolation never really lets up, someone told me ‘it gets better’ and deep down we both know for me that isn’t true, we both know they have to say that, because they know full well my options are looking grim.
Rest in peace Mac Miller.
I contemplated suicide again today, and I know that struggle to get up at 7 in the morning is looming, creeping in. I’m anxiously wondering what the remedy will be, painkillers or permanence?
If I live or die it doesn’t really matter, I really ‘died’ a long time ago.
I hope no one sees this / I should stop being so candid online
Goddamnit I’m screwed.
don’t tell me otherwise, because we both know the truth, but that’s between me and you.
The aforementioned person also says I’ m strong and I’m fighting a battle, so I’d just like to make an announcement; I lost the battle, six years and the depression wins. this is pointless, a cycle that repeats with no glimmering tunnel, just more futility.