depression
anxiety
happiness
life

Depression at its finest.

Time Spent- 20m
21 Visitors

People talk about self-love and when they do; I don't understand how they got to that point.


I don't know what it means to love myself. Looking in a mirror for more than 10 seconds is pure torture because all I can do is harshly critique myself.


I look away in shame because I see nothing but an ugly freak of nature. Not even my smile is appealing.


I pretend to be this upbeat bubbly person but deep down inside; I'm so tired. I'm so emotionally drained and have no desire to muster a grin.



I lost the feelings of hope and happiness. All I feel is an empty aching hole of overwhelming depression and anxiety. I think my brain goes on autopilot the minute I wake up. Because all I can think about is laying in bed and staring at my closet walls in a bounty of self-sarrow.


At some point in my life...I stopped living. I forgot what it means to live for myself. I forgot who I am. And now I can't even take the time to figure out whether I want to continue this deep agonizingly painful journey or just end it.


And although the want to die grows stronger I know I'm still too much of a coward to go through with it. No, I don't want to die unless it is really time for me to go.