How can a Friday be special when every day of the week is exactly the same?
It hurts especially when you open up to someone(s) about your depression and they immediately push you aside.
Silence.
I know not everyone knows how to handle a person going through depression, but it sucks to feel that much more alone.
There are only a handful of people in thisworld universe, that I simultaneously love to the ends of the earth, but can bring me to tears in an instant. I both love and fear these people. They are the only people that can actually choose to love me or hurt me. It's scary. I self sabotage in an effort to protect myself.
I am an idiot.
I feel like a walking disappointment. Who am I kidding?I don't even get out of bed most days to be a walking disappointment. More like a stagnant disaster.
Uninspired and sad.
Trying to recognize and find happiness. It's hard when a smile is only something you see on the TV or in pictures. I miss the way you used to look at me. I miss the way you used to make me feel. I feel so broken.
One last thought before I attempt productivity:
I guess it's a good thing that in an attempt to open up, be vulnerable, and show important people in my life this blog, they barely pay attention. Who wants to deal with a sick girl? Someone who also happens to hate herself? I don't blame you. No wonder you don't smile. No wonder this is exhausting. Don't forget:
I'm tired, too.
I just hope one day someone takes an authentic interest in me, all of me, every complicated nook and cranny of my life, inner workings of my mind. Who am I kidding? You need to pay someone to give a fuck enough.
Therapy, here I come!
Silence.
I know not everyone knows how to handle a person going through depression, but it sucks to feel that much more alone.
There are only a handful of people in this
I am an idiot.
I feel like a walking disappointment. Who am I kidding?I don't even get out of bed most days to be a walking disappointment. More like a stagnant disaster.
Uninspired and sad.
Trying to recognize and find happiness. It's hard when a smile is only something you see on the TV or in pictures. I miss the way you used to look at me. I miss the way you used to make me feel. I feel so broken.
One last thought before I attempt productivity:
I guess it's a good thing that in an attempt to open up, be vulnerable, and show important people in my life this blog, they barely pay attention. Who wants to deal with a sick girl? Someone who also happens to hate herself? I don't blame you. No wonder you don't smile. No wonder this is exhausting. Don't forget:
I'm tired, too.
I just hope one day someone takes an authentic interest in me, all of me, every complicated nook and cranny of my life, inner workings of my mind. Who am I kidding? You need to pay someone to give a fuck enough.
Therapy, here I come!
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