What did I do to deserve this?
Why can't I make this feeling go away?
Why?
Me?
I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Even if they had done horrible things to me. Nobody deserves to feel like this. Nobody. So, why do I? Every day is a struggle just to get out of bed. Half the time, I lose that struggle and give in. I just close my eyes and go back to sleep. Stay inside where it's dark and safe. Where nobody can judge me and make fun of me. Where nobody can call me crazy or say it's an excuse and it's not a real disability. My dreams are far better than this reality.
I'm sad. I'm hopeless. I'm scared. I'm lonely. I'm lost.
I don't want to be this way. I don't want to waste the life that has been gifted to me. I don't want to miss out on important events in the lives of those I love. I don't want to feel tired even after sleeping for 48 hours. I don't want to be a joke or the person everyone feels sorry for. Pity is the last thing I need or want.
Understanding would be nice.
Therapy and medication that actually works like it's supposed to would be even better. Medication and therapy that I could afford might make things easier. Not being a lab rat for a doctor to test drug after drug after drug on only to have minimal success for a few months and then crash into the wall of depression and anxiety so hard it shakes my entire world. And on to the next drug. Let's see if this works. They all work, at first. And then I mind fuck myself into believing and wanting SO bad for it to still be working that when I realize I'm sinking again...it's too late.
I've lost a friend.
I've lost a love.
I've lost a job.
I've lost control.
When does it end?
It's the most vicious circle. Frustration doesn't begin to describe this.
So, I keep trying and fighting and being the lab rat. I keep losing and explaining and hoping the people around me will love me enough to try and understand. I pray I won't lose another friend or job because I can't control this sadness. I pray I won't end up doped up in some institution just a heartbeat with dead eyes and drool falling from my face. How long can I keep fighting before I just resign to that existence? Maybe that'd be better for everyone. It's not like I'm living anyway and I'm just a burden to people anyway. Right?
Sometimes, the dark rolls in like thick clouds and I can almost literally feel it envelope my body. Sometimes, I can fight it off. Nobody ever seems to be around when I do that. They're only around when I can't.
And they never seem to give me the feeling they believe me when I say I WANT to fight. That I DON'T want to be this way. I DON'T want pity and I'm not using this as some excuse to be lazy or fuck up. I'd much rather fuck up knowingly, at least then I can own up to it. It seems the words "I don't know. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry" cross my lips more often than not.
And it sucks.
And then they're times when the depression turns into anxiety...or triggers anxiety...or maybe the anxiety attack is so severe that I just forget about the depression all together.
Being sad sucks ass.
Losing control of your body is MUCH worse.
All of a sudden, for whatever reason...and sometimes, for other people, no reason at all...it feels like everything is closing in. My heart is racing, I'm sweating, my entire body is shaking and I'm gasping...praying...trying as hard as I can just to get some air in my lungs. When it's really REALLY bad, my hands close and cramp up and I can't feel my fingers and I can't open my hand...and then my feet do the same. All I want is for it to stop, but I can't make it stop and that makes me panic more and so begins the cycle of a panic/anxiety attack. Add all that to having this sort of "episode" in front of people and it's literally like a living nightmare. Loss of control, fear, embarrassment, gasping for air, begging your heart to slow down...can you imagine this?
I don't have to.
And I hate it.
I hate that this is happening to me. I hate that people think it's funny or call me crazy. I hate that people think it's all for attention. I hate that my life isn't worth living sometimes because what's the point? Depression and anxiety keep winning. It's like they want me to end up penniless and completely alone. But why? WHY???
Seriously. Why?
I don't want to worry anyone. I never meant for this to happen and I certainly never asked for it. My one wish would be to never have this disability. To never have to take medication. To never have lost friends or loves or amazing opportunities. To never again have someone refer to me as "not normal" while looking at me like I'm a fucking leper.
That stupid commercial that says "depression hurts" pisses me off so much because it's true. Some physically hurt from this. Some hurt from the loneliness and feeling of being misunderstood. Either way. That fucking commercial is right. It hurts. Nobody would choose this. Nobody.
NOBODY.
I hope this next round of new treatments will finally be the RIGHT one! I want it so bad. And, as much as this dark wants me to quit fighting...I never will. Never. Because I refuse to believe that God wants me to be miserable, frightened and alone for the rest of my life. So, I'll try what they give me. I'll ask people to pull me out of bed. I'll swallow what pride I have and take it that other people are thinking I'm irresponsible and flakey and unreliable and drama and a disappointment, etc...because I do get it that unless you suffer from this, it's hard to believe. I'll continue to be all of those things in their eyes all the while wishing they were in my corner...and I'll keep trying.
Because someday, I just know that I'll prove them wrong.
If I can just get out of bed.
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