Dvarksy
Doomed from Birth.
- Sep 3, 2021
- 3
This is something that weighs heavily on my chest, and whenever I feel suicidal I think about it constantly. It's a theme I've seen that people with depression generally suffer from terrible lives, caused by any combination of poverty, abusive parents, or lack of friends. There's many other potential reasons of course, but it seems, at least to me, that's the case. What troubles me about all that though is... well, I actually have a good life. I have loving parents and grandparents, my family is wealthy enough to send me to my dream college with no student debt, and I have supportive friends (through the Internet). Nonetheless I feel excruciating emotional pain, and it only gets worse considering how I have everything essentially handed to me on a silver platter. I've been through some severely traumatic events and big changes, but still, I don't feel that justifies failing to even have the will to live. When people ask "What's wrong?" I seldom have a good answer for them. So much in my life has and is going right... yet I'm not able to reap the joy from it that I should. My closest friends already know about my traumatic experiences, and bringing those up again has made me sound like broken record. Most of the time I don't even know what to ask for when people offer to help, as my issues are so far in the past, and all the real "fixes," if there are any true fixes, would require effort on my part, and my part alone. I feel very isolated, and feel as if my depression is "less" than others because I have so many things in my life other people don't, and because from an outside perspective I have a fantastic life. I want to know if there's other people like me out there, that should be happy but aren't... it's like the world is weighing down on you if you cry for help while nothing is currently going 'wrong' in your life. People care infinitely less about you as a result, and I'm not sure they're wrong to be apathetic. No one I know can offer the support I need, and I lost all physical friends a long time ago. I've moved since then, but haven't formed any truly meaningful bonds. Suicide is a mistress I dance with in my dreams, but I'm unsure if I'll ever be able to face her in reality, or if I'll be doomed to suffer like this for the rest of my pitiful, pathetic life.