I am trying, I am really fucking trying. My anxiety is only getting worse, and my depression is seriously taking over my life now. But you don’t believe me. I’ve been clean for months but I can’t tell you how hard it is to look at my crafting scissors and not want to just start all over again.
Why won’t you ever fucking listen to me? I am fighting every bloody day just to try and get out of bed and what do you do? Call me lazy, you degrade me because you think I have control over myself. You say you’re training to be a counsellor but you’re so shit at actually listening to anyone but yourself that you’d be fired before you stepped foot near a patient.
Ive tried to tell you I’m loosing my will to live but I’m always told that you have it worse, and that I should be grateful I have a roof over my head, an education, and food on the table. The last time I tried to tell you I wasn’t okay you just screamed at me, and I can never stop hearing you say you hate yourself because of me.
I had to make myself that fucking doctors appointment and go alone 3 years ago, and when I told you that my mental health was deteriorating? You yelled at me. You told me I was sneaky going behind your back and that you know best. You know fucking nothing. I got diagnosed with anxiety and depression and you called me a liar. When I finally got the courage to ask for tablets you said “It’s for the best” and I thought we were getting better. I’d been on them a week before you told me to not get dependent. It’s your fault I stopped taking them out of fear, because you told me that I’d be judged for it.
I can’t keep doing this day-to-day routine where I play the happy kid and keep social, whilst also keeping active. Staying off my laptop but also only using it to complete college work. I am fucking struggling.
And every single day I look at myself in the mirror and say “All you have to do is grab the tablets” and you’ve done nothing to stop me thinking that. I absolutely despise myself and you’ve only fuelled that.