Depression Journal

Im in a very depressed mood dont judge me

I'm so good at faking
My friend thinks I don't know what depression is

As I sit,
With the words "I need help" written
My thumb hovers over the send button
I think
They won't believe me
I already have depressed friends
They think I'm faking
They think I'm an attention seeker
What if I am?
What if I brought myself into this black hole of emotions?
What if I just want to be special?
I'm not special
I never will be
They will never believe me
I tap the delete button 11 times

Anna - "yeah I have depression"
Charlotte - "wow really?"
Anna - "yeah I self harm I don't want to take it too far with cutting so I scratch"
Charlotte - "wow you need help"
-3 days earlier-
Annabella - "hey this is so hard for me to y'all about but I'm depressed and I self harm by scratching myself because I can't deal with blood"
Anna - "wait what just happened"
Anna - "yeah guys my fake girlfriend breaking up with me is the cause of my depression that I just got today"
Beep beep possible faker alert beep beep

I have to see him again today
That guy who has a crush on me
That guy who stares at me
That guy who always seems to try to be close to me
That guy who also avoids me
That guy who is always very aware when I am there
That guy who knows I know he likes me
That guy who, I don't even know if I like

(Next one about religion sooooo don't hate me)
(Totally not happening right now)
I sit staring at my computer
"Essay 1 of 3"
No text
I read the instructions
"Write about your experience with being called to holiness"
"Your calling in life isn't decided right now"
They contradict each other
What am I supposed to write
I stare at the blank screen
A tear drips
My legs shake
My head hurts
My heart races
My computer screen closes
My brain attacks

The scissors slice against my arm
They hurt, but in a good way
I watch as the marks turn red and raise
I am proud
I slice again
Still no blood
No matter how hard I try
I don't even want blood
I just want pain
My arm stings all day at school
I ignore it
I deserve the pain
I am a worthless human
Who needs to be punished
I go home
The scissors slice against my arm

Why do I have to be the one with no talents
I play the xylophone
My friends are all better at it
I play the violin
I'm so horrible and can't get a good seat
I'm good at math
I failed the last quiz
I have straight a's
I got a b- in humanities
I play the piano
My friends are all way better than me
I can memorize numbers easily
I can't even remember what we learned in math today
I'm good at loom knitting
I haven't loom knitted for two weeks
I read really fast
My friend read 4 1000 page books in the time I read 1 600 page book
The only things I'm good at is having unique hair and unique eyes

I fell asleep at 1:30 last night
And woke up at 6:20
I was tired
I fell asleep at 11 the night before
And woke up at 7
I was tired
I fell asleep at 12 two days ago
And woke up at 6:45
I was tired
I fell asleep at 3 last night
And never woke up

I sleep with a fan on
So no one can hear if I'm crying

I look at my favorite leggings
They show how fat I am
I pair them with my favorite shirt
It isn't long enough to cover my whole arms
I settle for an oversized sweatshirt and my jeans

I haven't eaten all day
I can't seem to get up
I'm not really hungry
It just feels weird in my stomach
I write in my nutrition journal (for health)
"12 oz of water
1 cereal bar"
And I close the document

I cry
Why am I so dumb and stupid and worthless and fat and hopeless and depressed and stressed and ignored and useless  and anxious and unloved?
No one responds to my plea

I am in pain
Pain from no one understanding
Pain from being ignored
Pain from anxiety
Pain from self harm
Pain from being useless
Pain from having no one to talk to
Pain from no one realizing
Pain from no one giving support
Pain from my tears
Filled with knives
Piercing the skin and soaking in
Presenting lies
They hurt
But in some way are comforting
They tell me these pains are a part of my life now
Nothing can change that
They suggest
Why not suicide?
It will end the pain?
My thoughts say
No, it will only bring more pain
But they say
No, no, that's not true
They will be happy if you are gone
No one actually loved you anyway
So I listen
They make a plan
At 2 I will sneak downstairs
Grab a plastic bag
Place it over my head
And tie it tightly at the bottom
And wait
I follow closely
But while it is on my head
I chicken out
They say
See, you are a chicken
Obviously you aren't strong enough to die like that
They formulate a new plan
Grab the rope in the basement
Tie it to your ceiling fan
And your neck
Jump
I follow suit
The rope is tight
I jump
The ceiling fan snaps
Falls on my head
I suffer permanent brain damage now
I go to therapy
I found a way out
With suicide

(Woah that was a weird one I dunno what it was it's probably horrible but eh)

My friends say
You can't be depressed
You are always so happy
That's how depression works for some
Like me
They say
You can't be depressed
You have nothing to be sad about
That's how depression works
It doesn't need a reason
My friends say
You can't be depressed
You are too strong
I'm not
I'm weak
My friends say
You can't be depressed
You don't cry
Well you don't stalk me
Every night
My friends say
You can't be depressed
You haven't attempted suicide
How do you know I don't want to?
I might
My friends say
You can't be depressed
You don't cut
I don't cut
I scratch
I say
This is a nightmare
My friends would never say that
My brain says
But they might
You never know

Slice
Slice
Slice
My arm bleeds
My friends are texting
They don't know what I'm going right now
I start to act weird
Hoping they will get the point
I'm not okay
They don't notice
Can says
"I'm sad"
In my mind, I say
"Oh really? I'm depressed"
Slice
Slice
Slice
My arm bleeds
Everyone is silent on our chat
They move to the "therapist chat"
I read the description
"This is a chat where you get no judgement"
Tell that to my depression
Slice
Slice
Slice
My arm bleeds
My friends talk about how my other friend is a good listener
I bet if I talked to her she wouldn't believe my depression
Slice
Slice
Slice
My arm bleeds
They don't notice how I'm falling apart
They don't notice how I never wear short sleeves anymore
They don't notice how I will take a deep breath to comfort myself
They don't notice when I'm about to cry
They don't notice how I'm so depressed all day long
Slice
Slice
Slice
My arm bleeds
They don't notice I'm slowly dying
I pass out

One thing I feel that depressed people understand based on my experience
Is that your brain and you are two different people
There's one side that is good, and one side that is bad
For example, when I think of no one loving me, there is a good side that is telling me that people do love me, and there is also a bad side telling me that they love me, but less than everyone else. I honestly believe the bad side.
One other example shows why I believe the bad side. When I think of my talents, my good side is stumped. My bad side keeps going on and on about how I'm not good enough and I'm not good at anything, and my good side is pretty silent, because everything they've said has been eliminated by the bad side, and the good side seems to agree.