Despondent

1

Three weeks. That's how long I've been diagnosed with depressed. I've been to the doctors and they just suggest I take medication and go to therapy and all that shit. It's not worth it because talking about how I feel won't make anything better for me. The pills are just a piece of shit, they won't do anything except make me more sick. My body doesn't take the pills correctly and it messes with my head and fucks me up.

And here I am having another episode. Sitting on the floor of my bathroom, bawling my eyes out. My mind constantly asking why do I feel this way? Why am I this way? All these questions filling my head, I can't take it anymore. Needing to catch my breath, I feel like I can pass out any moment now. My thoughts always leading to death or suicide. I can't help it, but the option is always open to me, but at the same time these stupid flashes of the people I love, my parents, and all the great memories I've had in the past come to me and it messes up my original plan. I just want to feel happy again, but I don't think I can if I feel this way.

There's this feeling in my chest, I don't know how to explain it, but it hurts so much. I've never felt anything like this before. I'm so scared for my life, but at the same time I want to take away my life.

My sobs come out louder by the second, but covering my mouth so my parents won't hear and my brother who is in his room across from mine, won't hear me. I just want to be alone, but at the same time I want someone to cuddle with me and tell me pretty lies like, "everything is going to be fine," even though I know it's not.

Soon my breathing is slowing, but the tears keep on coming. I want them to stop, but the demons in my head are fighting me. Lord please help me, I don't want to be like this anymore. I hate this! I hate my life. I hate everything. The burning in my chest gets worse.

"Go away, please go away!" I chant out loud thinking the demons will leave me alone and I'll be okay. I wan't it to go away!

I get up and look around my sink looking for the pills. I don't care if they fuck my head up, I'll do anything to stop the feelings in me. Grabbing the orange bottle and pouring out some pills I down it in a rush. I look at my self in the mirror in front of me. My reflection looking right back at me.

Disgusting. Ugly. Fat. Worthless. All these words swarming my head. Tears spill out and down my cheeks, I wipe them away trying to act confident saying that I'm not worthless, and I'm pretty. Oh the lies I tell myself.

I wash my face thinking I'll be pretty when I open my eyes. The regret getting my own hopes up of actually thinking I'll ever be pretty. I look like a fucking rat. Why didn't God bless me with a pretty face and a good life?

I lie in my bed finally needing to get sleep. Please Lord, please make tomorrow a better day. Just another nine months and I'll be done. Only if I can make it through the nine months without killing myself.