Dear Diary,
Hello. I've figured out why I fear the living dead so much. It's because I'm becoming one of them. I'm not alive, life comes with meaning, as far as I know my life has none, I'm a shell. I'm not dead, death means a grave, I'm still breathing and my hearts still beating, but my skin is ice cold and I can almost hear the grave calling my name. That's what I live with every. Single. Day of my fucked up life. It's like I'm drowning but I look around and see all the people still breathing, I just feel lost and alone. I'm not alone though, my depression is always with me, the scars are too, they torture me. They remind me of the girl that I slaughtered, the girl who used to be me, and now she's cornered in my mind while my entire being screams at her to go die, to give in, no one would miss her. That's all I hear, insults, my mind telling me to die, my body saying that I'm ugly, my soul slowly withering away. I look in the mirror and it gets worse, I'm alone in a dark room and it gets so bad that I start to suffocate, like a thousand pounds is sitting on my chest, trying to crush me till there's nothing left. The only time it leaves me alone is when I'm with people I know care about me even if I don't believe them. The sad part about that is I don't see them very often, I spend more time suffocating than I spend with people. If it goes on like this I won't survive much longer. I may live, but I'll be empty, just a zombie walking around, going through life with no meaning or purpose. I wish that I could spend every waking moment with G, I wish I could wake up every morning feeling safe in his arms. Instead I wake up every morning freezing and feeling like death is hovering over my shoulder. It's too much. Worst of all I feel like I have no right to be depressed. There are people out there whose lives are way worse than mine, yet they find happiness. So I have no right to be depressed, but I am. I don't know how to make it stop, and none of my friends do either. I just don't know what to do and I don't think I'll ever figure that out. That's all for today. Bye.
Artistically yours,
H
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Dear Diary
No FicciónFirst you should know that the original details were a lie. I did that because I kinda didn't want to risk my mother finding this book. Now that I have precautions I can say that this is my diary. Yeah, sorry for all the grammar mistakes and languag...
