Is has gotten to the point where I have to ask myself this question.
What is hope?
Because I have no idea...
All I know is that hope is something that I have lost, or better yet, has lost me.
I had hope long before Anxiety and Depression had forced their way into my life.
Oh, Hope....
How I loved your constant attempts of saving me.
Although it had never been enough in the end, you'd never seemed to give up on me.
So here I am, to apologize to you.
I'm sorry that I'd given up on you.
I had no choice, it was either them, or nothing.
And something is better than nothing, don't you think?
They said that I was already far gone, that you were just a sliver of my imagination.
So I let go, I watched as every part of you was flushed away and out of my body.
Were they right?
Was I so alone that there was no other way of saving me?
If you were unable to save me, then who could?
I am so sorry....
So, so sorry.
I'm sorry that I let go.
I'm sorry that I didn't believe in you.
I'm sorry that I let you down.
Again and again.
You were always there, and now you're not.
You were there even when I hated myself, but now there's nothing I can go to.
Why would you stay with someone who used you for her own problems, and then left you with nothing?
How do you stay? How are you able to survive this way?
How can you sit aside me, and continue to welcome me back with open arms?
I hurt you, again, and again, and again.
I hurt you.... and you still believe in me?
I lost you.... I lost the hope of having a reason to wake up in the mornings.
I'd wake up with a smile on my face, knowing that it was going to be ok. But now it's not ok. It will never be ok.
People say that it will be ok, and that you helping me along the way was just another fragment of imagination.
They have never felt the things I feel.
They don't know what the pain of waking to the voices in their head telling them to end it all is like.
They will never know the feeling of major rejection.
They will never experience the pain I wake up with
EVERY.
SINGLE.
DAY.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fuck. Every. Thing. Every. One.
FUCK. IT. ALL.
YOU ARE READING
A Reason To Breathe
Short StoryA short story about what effects depression can have any teenager. How it preys on their innocence and any life left and deserts it.