26/12/10
I just want
to lie on the floor and stare into thin air. Furthermore, I want to lie on the
bare ground, outside where it is cold and let the ice freeze my body until I am
numb. But, I must write. I must force myself to type away when all I want to do
is wallow in self pity. I have to because I have to learn from this. I must if
I want to live for my daughter. I have been here so many times before. Countless
times I have felt this empty hole in the pit of my stomach. Endless number of
times I have cried and cried, not knowing when the tears will stop. There must
be a way out. Surely. I can’t die. No matter how much I want to and believe me, I
don’t think there is a day that goes by without wishing what it would be like
if I died. But, I have to live for my daughter. I have to trudge through. I owe her
a happy life. I brought her into this world. I can’t fail her. I wish I never
brought her into this awful place. I really wish. She deserves much more than this
pain and torture of this world.
I can’t tell
you how it feels. There are no words to describe it. I try, but the words just
don’t even come close to how it actually feels. No one will understand unless
they have experienced this hell. But even then the experience is different. We
are all alone. All alone with our thoughts. What complex and deranged human beings
we are.
Just a
moment a go, I was in the bathroom punching myself. I used to do that. You get
caught up in a moment of madness and you crumble. You snap. It doesn’t even
hurt. If it does, the pain feels good because you deserve to be punished.
That’s how it feels; like you’re guilty of all of this. You must have done
something wrong.
I believe I
am crazy and that I am slowly but surely going to snap. I can’t remember when
the depression first began but over the years it’s like it’s changed me into
this person that cannot run away. Nothing feels real. I don’t believe I’m here.
And if I’m here, I swear somebody is laughing at my expense. It’s such a
complex place, how can it make sense? What is the fucking point? It makes me so
angry. What is the fucking point in anything. We’re all going to fucking die.
Why did my mother bring me into this world?
I sit here
typing and my eyes won’t stop filling up. It’s like when the depression takes
over I become a crazy person. I want to collapse. I want to fall onto the
floor. It feels like I’m crumbling into little pieces, just breaking apart, my
face falling off. Empty.
I DON’T WANT
TO FUCKING BE HERE.
I want to
cut my head off.
So much
pain. I can’t explain the pain. It just hurts. It’s like a loss. Like you’re
grieving. A darkness. So fucking dark. Like the world around you is empty and
dark and there isn’t another soul in the world. Just you. Left all alone. Lost.
Hopeless. Desperate.
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I'm posting these because it helps me realise how far I've come.
It's time to give myself the credit I deserve.
The Bernard Bert
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