Every day I sit here in my apartment, rotting away. I'm in a major city with busy streets right outside my window, tons of people everywhere, but I don't go outside. I can't. I've driven my life into the ground by wasting it away, and I keep falling in and out of depression so low that I have suicidal thoughts, only to try and claw my way out until something triggers it again. I'm tired of the cycle and I can't take it anymore.
I'm in my mid-20s. I've been in this apartment since 2015, and in the city since 2014. I've been alone the entire time. For the first two and a half years I was trying to get a handle on my depression. I had hope. At the same time though, I was driving away friends, the people who cared about me, until I was fully isolated. I received a small stipend from my dad every week, and I am lucky to have a free apartment because of a family business so the stipend is enough to get by minimally. I'm lucky to have the privilege, but it has never felt good. I want to be able to support myself. But I could never get over my struggle.
In 2017 things started to look better. I started writing again which is my only talent, found an online social circle through it (not people I'd call close friends but people who I could communicate with in my isolation), and lost 60 pounds. It fell apart in the last few months of that year but things looked up again at the start of 2018 when I landed a dream freelance job. I was finally making a bit of money and I thought my life was finally going places. I then met a girl and we got really close, but after four months things ended really poorly because I became really depressed as the work stopped making me happy and I was losing my drive. I took advantage of the fact that she also suffered from depression and understood. I overloaded her as I had done to everyone else and she left. I tried to fix things but she threatened legal action so I backed off and really crashed.
Then, the one friend I had in this city or even remotely close to it moved away, and has been distant ever since because I vented to him a lot too. THEN, my contract at the dream freelance job was terminated for a reason they won't give me... maybe because I started being depressive on social media. I just don't know. I also had to estrange myself from my mother with whom I have a really rough relationship... I had to do it for a full year before and I thought things between us had gotten better but now I know she'll always see me as a mistake for having depression. And I also had to drop another long-distance friend I've known for some time because he berated me for being depressed. Everyone else I know has become distant in some way. I went from having something to once again literally having nothing, being at the lowest point I've ever been to. I thought it couldn't get worse than in 2014 when I made a half-hearted attempt to take my life which led to me dropping out of university in my third year but I am just so fucked up.
[there was a paragraph here but I decided I don't really want to share this part]
I think I've just gone crazy. I have outburst moments where I talk to myself. I don't really get out of bed most days and can go for incredibly long stretches without leaving my apartment. Therapy and medication doesn't work anymore, it hasn't for a long time. I've started holding my feelings inside because I've finally learned that telling others only leads to ruin. I need to make up stories so I get fake pity from others, but even that just hurts me now. And as I continue to be stuck in my apartment, again getting a stipend from my father, feeling more than ever that there's no future for me and that it's impossible for me to be socialized, I am just losing my mind. I can't even write well anymore so the one thing I had going for me is gone. I'm fascinating about the prospect of hanging myself, or otherwise taking my life for real this time. Right now I'm just not sure if I want to actually do it. I haven't made any moves towards it and the prospect scares me even though I really don't want to exist and don't see a future for myself. But I think about it, and sometimes my mind wants to believe it wants it. But I probably won't do it and I'm just made to suffer here, refreshing internet pages and occasionally playing a video game or listening to music or watching a movie or anime. Wasting my time as I sink further and further into despondence.
Sorry that this is an essay. I didn't mean it to go this long. Heck, I could go longer. I... just don't know anymore.
I'm in my mid-20s. I've been in this apartment since 2015, and in the city since 2014. I've been alone the entire time. For the first two and a half years I was trying to get a handle on my depression. I had hope. At the same time though, I was driving away friends, the people who cared about me, until I was fully isolated. I received a small stipend from my dad every week, and I am lucky to have a free apartment because of a family business so the stipend is enough to get by minimally. I'm lucky to have the privilege, but it has never felt good. I want to be able to support myself. But I could never get over my struggle.
In 2017 things started to look better. I started writing again which is my only talent, found an online social circle through it (not people I'd call close friends but people who I could communicate with in my isolation), and lost 60 pounds. It fell apart in the last few months of that year but things looked up again at the start of 2018 when I landed a dream freelance job. I was finally making a bit of money and I thought my life was finally going places. I then met a girl and we got really close, but after four months things ended really poorly because I became really depressed as the work stopped making me happy and I was losing my drive. I took advantage of the fact that she also suffered from depression and understood. I overloaded her as I had done to everyone else and she left. I tried to fix things but she threatened legal action so I backed off and really crashed.
Then, the one friend I had in this city or even remotely close to it moved away, and has been distant ever since because I vented to him a lot too. THEN, my contract at the dream freelance job was terminated for a reason they won't give me... maybe because I started being depressive on social media. I just don't know. I also had to estrange myself from my mother with whom I have a really rough relationship... I had to do it for a full year before and I thought things between us had gotten better but now I know she'll always see me as a mistake for having depression. And I also had to drop another long-distance friend I've known for some time because he berated me for being depressed. Everyone else I know has become distant in some way. I went from having something to once again literally having nothing, being at the lowest point I've ever been to. I thought it couldn't get worse than in 2014 when I made a half-hearted attempt to take my life which led to me dropping out of university in my third year but I am just so fucked up.
[there was a paragraph here but I decided I don't really want to share this part]
I think I've just gone crazy. I have outburst moments where I talk to myself. I don't really get out of bed most days and can go for incredibly long stretches without leaving my apartment. Therapy and medication doesn't work anymore, it hasn't for a long time. I've started holding my feelings inside because I've finally learned that telling others only leads to ruin. I need to make up stories so I get fake pity from others, but even that just hurts me now. And as I continue to be stuck in my apartment, again getting a stipend from my father, feeling more than ever that there's no future for me and that it's impossible for me to be socialized, I am just losing my mind. I can't even write well anymore so the one thing I had going for me is gone. I'm fascinating about the prospect of hanging myself, or otherwise taking my life for real this time. Right now I'm just not sure if I want to actually do it. I haven't made any moves towards it and the prospect scares me even though I really don't want to exist and don't see a future for myself. But I think about it, and sometimes my mind wants to believe it wants it. But I probably won't do it and I'm just made to suffer here, refreshing internet pages and occasionally playing a video game or listening to music or watching a movie or anime. Wasting my time as I sink further and further into despondence.
Sorry that this is an essay. I didn't mean it to go this long. Heck, I could go longer. I... just don't know anymore.
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