Hope

7

I got dressed dreading what is to come.

I have to see my therapist today, unfortunately.

I had to see him every two weeks, almost like clockwork.

If I had a choice not to go I wouldn't.

I hated being there, He didn't even listen to a word that came out of my mouth.

He just heard what I said but he never listened to me.

After an hour of him asking unimportant questions he just gives me a new set of meds to take.

Sarafem

Zoloft

Celexa

Zyban

You name it I took it.

They never helped me it just left me feeling worse.

I had to take them to "keep a straight head" as he said.

But it left me feeling empty.

look at what I have become.

Someone who can't live a "normal" life without being dependent on numerous pills.

I'm not even human to them.

I'm treated like a case number.

" You need to find your happy place, go out and socialize" he's says.

But how can I find my "happy place" when the inside of me feels that the happiest I'll ever be is dead.

There is no point of socializing when nobody see who you are, I am nothing but that kid who tried to kill themself.

Vicious rumors about me that aren't even true and I cannot protect myself from them.

The only friends I have are the council of thoughts running through my head only there to tell me everything I did wrong.

I can't even be a friend to myself because ,I, myself is the person I hate the most.

My own mother can't even speak to me without looking at me with unwanted sympathy and a muted mouth in which words that don't make me feel better come out.

Depression is my only friend.

The only one I had since childhood.

The one that told me that the world was against me.

The one that told me that I am every mistake that I have ever made.

The one that told me I will relive the mistakes of my parents.

The one that told me I wasn't suppose to be here because my mother knew my father was married.

The one that had me up till four a.m in the morning trying to find a reason to close my eyes.

The one that had me punch my mirror because I couldn't stand the person I have became.

The one that had my wrists cut open and rapidly bleeding in a bathtub filled with water while I drown.

The one that told me how much of a failure I was because I couldn't even successfully kill myself.

It was my only friend.

It continues to be my only friend.