Ive been working on a writing contest and Im writing my thought process during the summer of 2012 (around then depression was really hitting me hard) and this is what Ive got so far. (Its going to have a happy-ish ending guys dont worry) Another night, another migraine. The same old routine of depression and suicidal thoughts running through my head once again... I felt num and weak as I lie down in my dark shadow filled room; it couldnt have been no later than three AM, and on this warm summer night I felt cold and empty. I pondered for a moment, is it really worth it? Staying alive, I mean... And for what? Is there any point to life or do we just suffer for the hell of it? If there was a god why in the ever loving Christ would he want us to suffer as we do? Im not saying I suffer, in fact I have a wonderful life; a brother who may or may not give a shit about me, two parents who spend all their time with my siblings, and a little sister whom has suddenly started to ignore me. Things arent exactly perfect right now but I know my parents are trying, my mother especially notices my change; I think she can see it in my eyes, just like I can see the disappointment in hers. She tries to talk to me about it, and she really does care but for some reason I push her away so I can wallow in my filthy self pity and ignore the beautiful life I have set for me now. I used to cry myself to sleep every night but as the weeks went by I ran out of tears along with the comforting feeling I used to get from sleep. All my dreams are nightmares to me now, though they arent sad or scary, they remind me of happier times that I dont want to be reminded of. Time when I thought like a normal girl, when I had friends who I was convinced cared for me and the perfect life, or at least as perfect as my life could be. I was happy. Truly happy. The dreams are do vivid and feel so real, but they arent. When I wake up I feel the hole in my chest get deeper, so Ive been starving myself from sleep and I binge on caffeine because I no longer care if it effects my health. Im careless with my life and could care less about the tragedies in the world around me, I dont care about anything and I feel like a monster. Some sort of heartless demon who walks about the world only seeing its darkness, blind to its light, if there even is any. Will I ever get out of this hole? I feel as if Im buried six feet under slowly suffocating and waiting for the lack of breathable air to finally kill me. But it wont. My thoughts are so calm but theyre scattered about my brain in a disorganized fashion, but for some reason Im able to understand the mess, its my own form of organization, its a beautiful disaster. Im a beautiful disaster. Im the perfection of insanity, Im a monstrosity. Im not worth the air I breath and Im certainly not worth being loved by the amazing people I know love me. Honestly, theyd be better off without me, but I know my leaving would hurt them so I stick through the pain and hide it from them and occasionally come out of the turtle shell I call a room to converse with them for a while, so they know Im okay.... But am I okay? Do I need help? Im I insane or have I just become a blunt person? Where are my emotions? Did they decide to leave me just as my friends and almost everyone Ive ever loved did? Im awfully lonely, but I draw to pass the time. Even my drawings have amounted to nothing more than death and pain and blood. My parents sometimes ask me when I went to bed the previous night, I tend to lie and say around ten or twelve, when in actuality if I even sleept that night it wouldve been three to five. I wake up at seven. ~AdminVanessa
Posted on: Fri, 12 Sep 2014 23:12:18 +0000
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