Well, I'm still alive so at least there's that. It's bad. It's gotten so bad. Every time I have an anxiety attack or I fall into my depression, I have no other thought than that it would be so much better if I just died. I wouldn't have to fight anymore and I would feel nothing. This is terrifying to me because I do understand that my life will get better if only I reached out for help. I don't understand why I can't do that though. I am fully aware that "help" or at least someone to try to help me is out there, and all I have to do is ask for the help. This is as far as I can make myself write right now as I am seriously neglecting doing my school work. Hopefully I can get back to this soon and I can vent a little bit.
I've fallen into another pit. I for some reason put all of my self-hatred into the thought that I would be happier if my body was more attractive aka skinnier. I started restricting my calorie intake severely. I lost 7 pounds so fast in the first few weeks. My hip bones and ribs started to stick out like they did when I was in high school. I know I could've achieved a nicer physique just by working out and eating better, but this proved to be such a quick fix that I can't seem to let go of now. I am currently bloated. I know I'm only bloated because there's no way I gained all the weight back on when I have been eating less and less. I guess a part of me is kind of hoping that I'll just waste away. Maybe one day I won't have to eat anymore. I can't eat. Calories have become my #1 enemy. I talk to people sometimes, but I never really release everything. I can't. I'm fucking annoying and over-dramatic. No one wants to hear my stupid thoughts and see my emotional brokenness. I kinda just want to fade out of every life I'm in. People would be better off without me and that I truly believe.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
my depression
I know no one reads my blog anyway lol so I guess writing this is going to just be a kind of therapy for me. When I started blogging, I had the intention of posting the photos I take along with some kind of writing to talk about it. I only got into 3 posts. I am currently a student at CAL and I am dealing (more like failing miserably to deal) with severe depression. I have no interest in anything anymore. I only feel better when I am taking photographs. It means so much to me that art can be there, but it is such a restricted part of my life. I don't think one or two hours of taking photographs a week is going to be enough to save me.
I can't remember falling into this pit. I don't remember the point where it all hit me and I became this sad, numb, annoyingly antisocial person. It's weird to think back to high school and remember when I was hopeful towards my future. Now I struggle with my fear of it all ending and my strong desire for it all to end. I remember people telling me that college was going to be the best four years of my life. And when people ask me how I'm doing I have to tell them that I'm good and that school is going great. No one wants to hear the truth. No one wants to hear that the person I once was, the amazing person I was becoming, is wasting away. I definitely cannot see myself being happy ever again. At the same time I want to scream it to everybody that I am dying. What can anyone else really do for me, other than feel burdened by my own mental health problems. It is unfair for me to put what I feel on anyone else. That's part of the reason why it would just be easier for everyone if I just disappeared. I shouldn't let anyone depend on me and I definitely shouldn't depend on anyone else.
I am having some serious issues, but for some reason I will not utilize the help that the school offers me. I honestly have no explanation for that. I want to love myself and my life and to make the most out of the time I have here on this earth. But I cannot make it that long. I am worried that whatever I do will not be enough and I will reject the advice/help that a therapist would try to give me. The other day on campus, I imagined what it would be like to jump off of a building. I imagined the pain, of hitting the ground, but I got excited at the fact that I wouldn't have to deal with the shit that I face every day. My life is far from awful. I have two parents who love my dearly and a few close friends that would be heartbroken without me around. I know they want to see me get better. I go to an amazingly prestigious university. I am grateful for everything in my life, I just have a mental problem. It isn't that I don't have enough or that I'm not satisfied with my life so far... it's more like... it's hard to explain. I am in so much emotional pain every day, and I feel selfish for feeling like this. No one deserves my depressed ass ruining their lives. I feel it would just be better for me to disappear. I am so used to being alone anyway. I can handle that. At least in that case, if I decided to do something drastic I wouldn't hurt as many people as I would if I made an effort to keep people in my lives.
It's really hard to see what I'm typing right now as I am currently bawling my eyes out, so I think I'm going to end this depressive rant here. I will update my blog as this progresses...
I can't remember falling into this pit. I don't remember the point where it all hit me and I became this sad, numb, annoyingly antisocial person. It's weird to think back to high school and remember when I was hopeful towards my future. Now I struggle with my fear of it all ending and my strong desire for it all to end. I remember people telling me that college was going to be the best four years of my life. And when people ask me how I'm doing I have to tell them that I'm good and that school is going great. No one wants to hear the truth. No one wants to hear that the person I once was, the amazing person I was becoming, is wasting away. I definitely cannot see myself being happy ever again. At the same time I want to scream it to everybody that I am dying. What can anyone else really do for me, other than feel burdened by my own mental health problems. It is unfair for me to put what I feel on anyone else. That's part of the reason why it would just be easier for everyone if I just disappeared. I shouldn't let anyone depend on me and I definitely shouldn't depend on anyone else.
I am having some serious issues, but for some reason I will not utilize the help that the school offers me. I honestly have no explanation for that. I want to love myself and my life and to make the most out of the time I have here on this earth. But I cannot make it that long. I am worried that whatever I do will not be enough and I will reject the advice/help that a therapist would try to give me. The other day on campus, I imagined what it would be like to jump off of a building. I imagined the pain, of hitting the ground, but I got excited at the fact that I wouldn't have to deal with the shit that I face every day. My life is far from awful. I have two parents who love my dearly and a few close friends that would be heartbroken without me around. I know they want to see me get better. I go to an amazingly prestigious university. I am grateful for everything in my life, I just have a mental problem. It isn't that I don't have enough or that I'm not satisfied with my life so far... it's more like... it's hard to explain. I am in so much emotional pain every day, and I feel selfish for feeling like this. No one deserves my depressed ass ruining their lives. I feel it would just be better for me to disappear. I am so used to being alone anyway. I can handle that. At least in that case, if I decided to do something drastic I wouldn't hurt as many people as I would if I made an effort to keep people in my lives.
It's really hard to see what I'm typing right now as I am currently bawling my eyes out, so I think I'm going to end this depressive rant here. I will update my blog as this progresses...
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