This Is My Life

This is me trying to fight my depression in my free days, which are the most dangerous for me because when I have nothing to do, that's when my depression hits the most.

I wake up quite early in the morning, let's say around 8am. I don't want to wake up late because I would start feeling like shit for having wasted half of the morning. I want to wake up early with the hope of being productive. 

I wake up and I immediately think that I have to be kind and smiley with my sister and housemate so they will be kind back to me, hoping I won't be pissed off first thing in the morning. If I am kind, people will be kind alongside me. And if people are kind alongside me, there will be more chances it won't be a shitty day and my mood will be fine. 

After breakfast I take a shower so I can feel not only my body clean but also my soul. 

I organize my entire day, hour per hour, so I am calmer. It feels good being an organized person. An organized person should have everything under control and I wish I had everything under control. 

If it is sunny, I might go out for a walk, and if it is rainy, I drink lots of tea and read a book. 

In all of this, my target is just one: not thinking. Not thinking about anything else except being nice, being productive, being something.

This is me trying to fight my depression.

And this is me failing at fighting my depression. 

I wake up and I wish I had not. 

My sister pisses me off as soon as we sit to have breakfast. She doesn't know that just one little thing can bring me down and make me feel miserable for the rest of the day. So I have my coffee and then I go in my bedroom. I struggle studying and being focused. So I give up and start crying. I just lay in my bed, looking at nothing and feel like I am wasting my life, I have no purpose, I have no one. I cry harder. It is lunch time. I cook some pasta and eat in my bedroom. I'm not gonna leave my bedroom for the rest of the day. In the afternoon, I don't even try studying. I listen to music. Little by little, I start to feel a bit better. Music never disappoints me. I even smile and start to dance a little. Maybe it is time to go out of my bedroom. Big mistake. I am back in my bedroom crying even harder. How is it possible that I feel this shit? I feel this miserable? Will it get worse? I wish someone would understand how much pain I am in. If I had the courage, I would be more than willing to cut myself. If I did it, would people finally understand that I need help? I just wish I could disappear. I hate myself. I hate myself for being so miserable and, most of all, for not being able to do anything to fix me. Will I be like this forever because I don't even know where to start to get better? I am hopeless. I am a lost cause.

I am 22 and I have been depressed since I was 18. But no one knows because I might be rude and grumpy sometimes, but just that. I smile and if someone asks how I am, I say, "fine.” I lie and I fake it all the time. 

I smile during the day and I cry during the night. 

This is my life.