Chatbox thoughts

Untitled Part 69

I don't want to exist anymore.

If I say it's too hard, I feel like a child. But honestly the pain of being alone with the weariness of dealing with three days of depression has broken me.

It started when my boyfriend went to hang out with his friends. Before you attack me understand that I love that he is going and hanging out with friends. He is texting me updates more consistently than I thought he would be but I miss him.

I miss him, I miss my friends. I am lonely.

I wish I was going out and having adventures with friends. instead I am driving on empty roads trying to find some non-destructive way to kill the pain.

I want to gut my entire room to try and fix me...It won't fix me.

I know that somewhere in this mess God is wanting me to come to Him but I don't know how he can help...I don't know how anyone can help. That's why I'm not reaching out. I have half reached out, people know I'm depressed but I don't really know how anyone can help because all of this is my fault.

It's my fault that I don't reach out. It is my fault I don't go out places. It is my fault that I don't do the things I want to do much less things I don't want to do. It's my fault my room is so cluttered. It's my fault I'm not doing well in school. It's my fault I don't have money.

I feel like a mistake. and I know that's not true. "You are perfectly and wonderfully made." How can this be perfect? how can this be wonderfully made? I don't understand.

I know that a lot of this has to do with the disease we call sin. But this is where I write what I feel when I can't talk of feel like no one is listening.

Don't worry I've promised my boyfriend I wasn't going to do anything stupid. I have never left scars on my wrist. that is the one thing I have ever succeeded at. I hate to say that I am proud of that victory. Because every time I am proud of something I relapse and end up is so much pain all over again.

my depression hasn't been this bad in years.

I've also started to consider the possibility, since all my friend groups have fallen apart, that I am the problem. I could tell you why each of those friend groups fell apart or why I was pushed out or why that was a good thing. But eventually you have to stop making excuses and look critically at yourself and ask if you are the problem.

And Connor want to marry me. I don't know why. The man want to live with me! I don't even want to live with me. I swing wildly back and forth between stable and unstable. I suck at communicating. I complain about things even when my life is physically going fine. I get depressed when I am bored or lonely. I don't know how to reach out for help. I am angry and jealous and hard to be around. Why tf would anybody want to be one with me.

and I know he wants too despite all of this. he gets worried when I tell him that I've been depressed. He knows I've had self harming thoughts in the past and that they come up again.

Just two days ago I painted red lines on my arms (representing what I have never done), red claw marks on my collarbone, a red hand print on my neck and red thumbprints on my cheeks.

He knew I had replaced a knife with a brush.

"and I'll scream 'til I die, the last of those bad thoughts are finally out" lyrics from Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by the Avett Brothers.

Ironic...I went driving today to deal with my head and all I wanted to do was keep driving until I escaped my life. Problem is...you have to have a life to run from.

And the pieces of life I do have (friends and family actually) I do not want to run from.

I do not want to exist anymore I want to live