I just recently discovered I have depression. I'm on meds now but I can't help thinking of what my life would have been like if I realized this earlier. I was a pathetic excuse for a child who constantly thought about death. I still constantly think about death and my friends laugh it off. They don't want to see how utterly unhappy I am with myself. I hate myself, I really do. I could never decide the one thing I would change. I would change everything. I really wish I could just stop, but I can't. My meds make me a different person with no work ethic. Either I'm unhappy and stressed or I'm nothing. My depression was so ingrained in me that I lost part of myself without it. So now I hate myself for I different reason. I know I should be happy. I know I have everything a person needs. But I'm not happy. I have never been happy and I doubt I ever will. The best part is the only people who will truly know this is you, the reader. Everyone around me will continue living with my lies and my false smiles. | |
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