Hey guys, just another depression/anxiety rant. Feel free to ignore.
I'm just done lately. For 2 or 3 weeks now I haven't had my anxiety/depression meds and it's been hell. But honestly it was bad before that. Since like February I've been having issues. I want to cut, or do something to get rid of the pain and feel something else. But I also can't. I have to be okay. Being broken isn't an option right now. My mom is going through trials at work and trying to work on classes to renew her CDA and get a higher degree while being bankrupt and dealing with my dad still. And I failed most of my classes last year and it's pretty much impossible to make them up. And because I did so bad last year all I hear about is how I'm a disappointment and I'm going to fail and won't go to college or amount to anything and it kills me that these comments come from my own father... Maybe he's right. But with my mom dealing with so much and trying to deal with school and babysitting my siblings 24/7 and trying to get a job and being in charge of cleaning everything in the house and coming up with meal plans and making dinner for everyone being broken isn't an option. I have to be okay. I have to be able to do all this cause no one else can. We don't have the time or money to take me to the hospital and keep me on suicide watch or anything. It would kill my mom and nothing would get done and things would get worse and my dad would be right and saying 'I told you so' so it's not an option. I have to be okay. I have to be okay for everyone elses sake. Plus my friend is dealing with a ton of people talking shit and starting shit and she started cutting so I have to keep her okay too. I have to be okay for everyone but it's just making everything worse and worse. I can't recover. And going to school has been hell. Every one there hates me. I literally have one friend that talks to me and I have an evergrowing list of people who hate me for absolutely no reason. I hate being at school cause no one talks to me and I know most of them hate me and wouldn't care if I was gone and I just feel alone. I'm surrounded by people and I just feel alone. I hate getting up every morning to go somewhere that everyone hates me and judges me and says I can't do anything right. I'd rather stay hidden in my room. I hate being alone in my room but it's better than being alone in a swarm of people that hate me. I just want someone to care. Someone to ask me if Im okay and when I say 'yeah I'm fine. Just tired' to straight up tell me I'm lying and they want to help. I want to know someone is there. I want to have someone to lean on. Someone to love me. Someone to love all my broken pieces and help me put myself back together again. Someone i can trust. And I love my friends to death and trust them with my life but they are all struggling and there's no way I'll dump my crap on them. They need to be okay. And they come first. I will continue to be this way if they're getting better. But I also want someone to share this with. Just one person that could treat me the way I wish I could be treated. But it will never happen. I guess as long as my friends are okay it will be okay. I'll just keep on putting my fake smile on as long as they're okay. No one needs to know what's going on inside. As much as I wish someone would care i can't trust that they really would and they wouldn't leave me and stab me in the back. I'm just done. I'm numb anymore. It's rare i have a happy moment that can make me forget and if I find one, it doesn't last long. I just want to disappear. I want to be gone until I'm okay. I want to vanish into one of my books. one where I'd have someone to care and help me and where I could be me. I don't even feel like me anymore. I don't even know who I am. I'm just what people need me to be. I'm the babysitter, I'm the cleaner, the cook, the helper, the protector, the mom, the supporter, the therapist, whatever someone needs. I don't know who I am. I just know who I need to be. I just wish I could get away. I could vanish and be gone. I'm just done. I'm sorry.
