Today depression came up again. Buoyed by shorter daylight filled hours, the negative number in my bank account, an unrelenting sick feeling of headache, stomach pain, and mainly my brain and body reverting to default state.
I still don’t like speaking of it, of this fear, I don’t want people to become intrusive about me. I don’t want the worry of people who don’t understand because they’ve never felt this way.
I think I’m emotionally eating. I really need to not do that. I have to be really careful with addictions. I could very easily become an alcoholic I think. I need to be so careful to never do that.
TW: Suicidal ideation. Raw, honest, painfully real journal journey to a dark time of suicidal thoughts. Get help at suicidepreventionlifeline.org call 1-800-273-8255
Standing on the platform, I try to ignore the thoughts about what I look like and focus on something else. Anything else. At least I know that the reality is, I don’t know these people and they don’t care about me.
I hate admitting this, it’s unspeakable, and writing it down makes it even more real. I’ve been thinking about killing myself a lot. If I didn’t know the horrific trauma that death causes on the people who love the dead person, I think I’d have done it already.
Every day I struggle to get up and go to class. I find no meaning in anything I do and I go to a counselor here on campus, but I still feel the same.
Age – 29 Depression weighs on me Why is Depression so heavy? Hanging around in the pit of my stomach, a pulsating orb, a cancer re-emerging after remission. The sorrow is physically manifested in my gut. I feel a deep discontent. A piece missing or shifted into the wrong position. A heavy weight, crushing. Like
No matter how ready this anxiety is trying to make me, there is no way to prepare for doom. Living in fear is a kind of hell.
I’m not incredibly sad all the time. I don’t feel much of anything most of the time. I’m not just sadder than I used to be, I’m less everything.