
TW: lots of dark and uncomfy topics but if you're here that's probably what you're looking for ... I hope that someday we can both find a way to be ok.... I don't care what that way is.... whatever finally brings peace 20 years old
157 posts
Having Suicidal Depression Is Like Having A Constant Itch You Cant Scratch. Even If You Dont Plan On
Having suicidal depression is like having a constant itch you can’t scratch. Even if you don’t plan on actually committing suicide the feeling doesn’t just go away. It’s constantly in the back of your mind. Whenever road blocks happen in your life instead of figuring out how to fix things like a normal person would your brain immediately goes to, “just kill yourself.” When you wake up in the morning the first thought you have is about killing yourself because your dreams are the only time you can escape the pain of living with suicidal depression. You find no worth in your accomplishments. Even when you actually do accomplish something it’s like it has no worth because you don’t find worth in yourself. You constantly compare yourself to your peers and wonder if you would have actually been succseful like them if you didn’t have a mental illness. Even if you do feel happy for a moment that moment ends and you remember that you have no worth, are stupid, haven’t accomplished anything in life and are a waste of space who needs to just end it already. You know you’re unlovable. No one wants to be with someone with suicidal depression because they don’t want to be with someone who will bring them down. You constantly are thinking about killing yourself and knowing that you can’t makes you feel trapped. Dying isn’t a soluation but you don’t want to live another disappointing year where nothing but bad things happen to you and you don’t grow or change at all. Having suicidal depression is watching everyone around you grow and change while you remain the same. And no one can see how much pain you are in.
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More Posts from Thisfeelswrong

unfortunately for the both of us, i really like you
When did this start? When did I wake up hating myself? When did I start avoiding every mirror I came across? When did I hate being in pictures? When did my smiles become forced, and difficult? When did I stop looking both ways when I crossed the street? When did I stop leaving the house because I hated the way I looked that day? When did I grow to hate myself so much that I did physical damage to my body? When did I realize I had to change my wardrobe to hide the scars? When did I start avoiding everybody that ‘loves’ me? When did I start wanting to leave this world? It’s been so long, I don’t remember.
Tw: suicidal idealation, sh, sui
Nobody noticed when I stopped including myself in the photos. When I stopped trying to stand out in the group. They didn't notice that I started to fade into the background more and more. It was like I wasn't even there.
Every time I've cried it's been alone. Not once has someone helped me through a panic attack. There is no one here who will help me. I am alone. Why won't anybody help me? I've done everything that I can to save them.
I can't seem to let them go though. Especially the one who hurts me the most. Because even though he makes me feel like I don't matter and am just annoying, he's the only one who really makes me happy. So when he is nice to me my heart is so happy even though I know it won't last and that he'll be back to acting too good for me soon.
But he just doesn't get it. When I message you something random, that's my desperate cry for a distraction. I need help, but he pops in and out of the conversation and then I know that I mean nothing to the person who is my world. And then I cry. I cry until I can't breath because I need him but he doesn't even want me.
Nobody wants me.
I'm so tired. I can't keep going like this. I need someone to love. Someone to give me something to live for. But I don't have that.
So I live only because I have failed to die. I don't take the pills because I can't move my body. I just stare at the wall and feel the tears fall. I give myself drawings made of scars because I don't deserve to have something pretty without pain.
Maybe someday soon I'll finally get the courage.