Another day. I don't know anymore. Maybe it's my exhaustion. But I really do feel crummy. I feel worthless and selfish and guilty and horrible. And I didn't even do anything. But my self-pity makes me feel even more miserable. Yes, I'm lamenting about my nonexistant misery, but it really is there. And I just feel worse when I think about all the people in the world who have it much harder than me, but don't feel yucky. Why am I depressed? Why do I feel so pointless and shameful? It's hard for me to just accept who I am anymore. I don't have the will to live like this. I don't know where I should go from here. Nothing inspires me to keep going anymore. Nobody is able to help me stay afloat. I wish someone or something could fix me. But I'm broken. I'm worn. Physically I'm dead. Emotionally I'm in turmoil. And I don't think there is much left in the mental part of my life either, but it's still there so I can robotically rant about my feelings. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. What do I do?
I feel cold. And lonely. And I just despise myself. The light at the end of the tunnel is no where to be found; I sometimes forget it even exists these days. The sunshine doesn't make me feel better. My friends don't make me happier. It's all so temporary, so fleeting. I don't know what to do.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Say something. Say anything. Let me know you're there.