The day after my last therapy appointment i decided to take antidepressants

it’s probably not the best choice but whatever

I’ve choked down pill after pill behind fragile paper cups of shitty tap water and sometimes they help and sometimes they don’t

and i never like them, but i take them because i feel like i need to

like it’s a fucking necessity

like if i stopped taking pills, and i were just dependent on myself, i would just drop dead

and then i finally decided there was a pill that could help me

fucking antidepressants

they’re not elegant or a perfect idea but fucking shit they’ll make me happy and keep me from killing myself and that’s two things that are pretty high on the to-do list

but nope of course not

i should have learned that any sort of effort towards anything just ends up with me on my bedroom floor feeling my brain ripping apart every fiber of my being while i laugh myself to fucking death

i come home from school today to find my mom staring at me from the other side of the locked door while i’m standing in the freezing fucking cold

and she opens the door cackling like a fucking retard because that’s a fantastic joke or some shit i guess

laugh with her so she doesn’t feel like shit

go into the living room and collapse on the fucking couch and feel like i want to die

but i have the therapist appointment today

after two weeks of waiting

i’ll finally be able to get the pills and get back to normal, or at the very least, fuck myself up to the point where i can’t feel anymore

mom comes in and says “wanna hear something funny”

and i don’t at all because anything that my mom follows “wanna hear something funny” up with is never funny at all it’s just either shitty and dumb or really fucked up

and she proceeds to tell me that my dad was on the phone with my therapist and he mentioned that he had blisters on his hands or something

and my mom decided that was too gross to see him because he “might be sick or something” so she postponed it for a month


every fucking time

every fucking time i try something or something goes good for me it just laughs in my face and walks away



god damn


I just want to scream until there’s no fucking air left in my lungs and i just drop dead

and on top of that I realized that one of the only people left in the world that i care about is cutting me out

and i don’t even care that i’m posting about it on here because i know she doesn’t read these anymore because she’s done caring about some sad little lanky fuck that lives miles away

but hey on the offchance that you are reading this

either choose to be my friend or don’t

because being your friend kills me and it eats away at my fucking mind but i’m willing to do it

but if you don’t want me to talk to you anymore just fucking say so jesus christ

don’t cut me out like this

i just

want things back the way they were

i miss that

i miss us talking openly to each other

i miss the way i felt before i was like this

i miss waking up every morning and not feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach at the realization that i’m still me

that i’m still the useless lazy unlovable boring awkward fucker i’ve always been and that no matter how hard i try, i’ll never not be me

that i’ll always hate myself no matter what i do

and i can feel it all the time

even when i’m my happiest and i can look past all the shitty things in my life that knock me down a hundred times a day and the fact that i’ve never had someone that i feel comfortable fully talking to and the only friends i have are there because i taught myself at a young age to shut the fuck up and crack jokes every once and a while so people keep me around but it sucks

I can feel all my self-hatred and anger and frustration and isolation growing behind the walls of my skull like a fucking tumor

and no matter how many pills i take or doctors i see or friends i gain i’ll never be happy because i’ll still be in the same skin and the same mind and the same soul

the only way i can actually be happy is to fucking die

and i don’t care if that’s an elegant ending and i know that it’ll fuck up people around me but fuck

i don’t fucking care

I’ve put everyone’s emotions ahead of my own my entire life and i’m so sick of that

I’m a person you fucking assholes

I’m not some book that you can pick up occasionally and skim the pages and then toss back on the shelf to gather dust

god i’m so alone all the time and it never fucking stops

I’m so sick of thinking and contemplating and trying because in the end after 17 years it’s added up to fucking nothing and people ridicule me about it constantly

and everyone i tell my problems to just says “i hope you get better”

yeah i hope i get better too but hoping isn’t going to do shit

no matter who i ask, nobody can give me a valid reason for living other than “things will probably get better”

i’ve been telling myself that for 17 fucking years and holy shit it’s just not GOOD ENOUGH ANYMORE

I just

want to cease to exist

i don’t care if that’s unhealthy or wrong but god fuck i’m ending this

i’ll just go on forever

i’m sorry