I’m so tired of being alone. I don’t think I can take it any longer.　

Jesus Christ. It’s like there’s someone watching over everything in my life.

“She’s finally feeling a little happy? Let’s kill her grandfather!”

“She’s slowly getting over her grandfather’s death? Let’s kill her grandmother!”

“She’s finally feeling okay? Let’s throw this bag of shit at her and knock her down!”

“She’s trying to look on the bright side of things? Let’s give her grandmother a brain tumor!” 

I just can’t win.

I hate hating myself so much. I wish I was normal, I wish I wasn’t plagued by these thoughts. I just want to be happy.

I didn’t think about having my dinner make a reappearance tonight. Slow steps to freedom.

I hate seeing posts that are about suicide or depression on here, absolutely hate it. Every single one of them are the same, “Don’t do it, it’s selfish. Think of who you’re hurting. Think of what will happen.” “Pull yourself together, life isn’t that bad. You’re forcing yourself to be this way, you can be better.”

Don’t you ever fucking dare tell me someone chooses to feel like this. The amount of pain I suffer through with a smile on my face daily is incredulous. I don’t want to be like this, I don’t want to want to die. Depression is a fucking disease, I have no control over it. I can’t stop these feelings and I can’t stop these thoughts. You think it’s normal for a six year old to want to kill themselves? To want to die? A fucking SIX year old. Because that’s how long I’ve been having these thoughts. Jesus Christ. We’re not seeking attention, we’re not doing this because we’re selfish. You can’t sit there and think you know what it’s like when you have no fucking clue. You don’t know what it’s like to physically harm yourself, you don’t know what it’s like to want to die. For every bone in your body to ache for death, begging you to take yourself there. I don’t choose these thoughts, they plague my mind. I want them to go away, I want to be happy. I just can’t. Literally and physically can’t. My brain doesn’t work the same way as yours, my body doesn’t create all the correct hormones. I’m out of whack. You telling me to “get over it and pull myself together” is like telling someone with some sort of chronic illness that they need to get over it and it’s not a big deal.

I’m just sick and tired of people pretending to understand. You don’t, so stop fucking trying. You’re making it worse and I’m over it. You make us feel like more shit because we can’t be happy, because we can’t be fun or social or whatever it is that you want. We don’t feel good enough. You sit there and tell us to open up and don’t be ashamed, that it’s okay, but when we do we’re seeking attention. We’re making it up. We’re being dramatic. We’re over exaggerating. We don’t have enough troubles in our life to feel this way, other people who have it so much worse aren’t like this so why should we be? Yeah? Well, fuck you too. Hypocritical assholes. I’m fucking tired of it, so please just shut the fuck up. 

That probably stopped making sense a few sentences in, but it really needed to be said. 　

Alone. Always alone.

I hate that my thought always backtrack themselves to that drawer, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.

Am I really that good at pretending everything is okay? Or do you just not care?

Completely breaking down two days in a row, awesome.