7/5/2016
3:58 PM
Alexis Poniewierski
I know I haven't written a letter in awhile, but it's been a pretty decent few months, up until today. Yeah, I still had my average breakdowns every now and again. I just don't have the energy to write anything anymore.
I don't even know if I have the energy to do so right now. But here I am, I guess.
I had a decent fourth of July weekend, except for the last night I would have been staying up North. But, talking about that is something I'm not interested in going over again.
I'm tan, and my nose is sunburnt. It hurts.
I don't even know what to say. The feelings I have right now are a mixture of a million emotions it seems, and finding the correct words to apply to this letter is something I can't seem to do. I'm searching for all of the words to explain how I'm feeling and I can't seem to get any search results.
I just want to curl up into a ball, and go to sleep. I've been feeling rather rough lately, and I don't think any therapist or psych doctor could help me. I'm hopeless. Worthless.
Nobody cares about me, it seems. Nobody wants me around, nobody wants to be around me. I'm nothing. I am nothing.
It sucks that I am nothing.
It sucks that I am worthless.
It sucks that I am hopeless.
It sucks that I am feeling like this.
It sucks that nobody loves me anymore.
It sucks.
It sucks feeling so fucking alone, and not being able to fill any open, dark, black void with anything. It hurts, it hurts so bad. That it hurts to breathe, to let the air fill my lungs and make a slow exit. It sucks that I can lay in bed and still feel numb. No urge to sleep and escape reality anymore.
It's like my heart is pumping blood and keeping me alive but it's as if it isn't beating anymore. As if I have absolutely nothing. Everyone has given up on me. I wouldn't be surprised if my heart stopped beating for me, too.
I am someone who is consistently given up on. I am someone who is consistently not cared for, or loved. I am simply a someone in this huge damn world, and ninety-nine percent of the world doesn't even know I exist. Shit, even some of my so-called "Friends" don't know I exist.
Maybe I'm a someone in this huge, terrible world that we call home, that is meant to be a nobody.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Counselor: My Story.
Non-FictionMy own personal letters to my Counselor, explaining how my depression works and what it's making me feel. A lot of people suffer with depression & unfortunately, I was one of them that developed it. A lot of people kill themselves everyday becau...
