The Depressed, Yet Happy, Yet Depressed Black Girl

Because at least I’m alive right? Telling someone to stay on this earth. At least I’m living. “It won’t always be like this.” Well it’s been like this a little too long at this point. But at least I’m still alive, at least the people trying to keep u alive get to keep u here.

Today I stared at my sleeping pills and only swallowed down two. I wanted to take them all.

So glad I survied my mental shit show the other day. I still am upset that I won’t be able to fuel my lifestyle just yet because I’m back at square one again financially.

The only reason I’m trying to hold on is because I don’t want to traumatize my boyfriend and my family. Death is sad and lonely for the people who are alive. But psa: I am not doing well.

I have these ideas in my head and I want to get started on my freelance writing career, but the thing will always be that I need money now. I’m not in a financial space where I can focus most of my time on my craft. And I have high functioning depression, so after a long day of work I am spent.

I am very suicidal right now, like I’m fighting the urge to swallow all my prescription sleeping pills. I’m fighting the urge off and it’s so hard. I got fired from my job today, and it’s like I’m never good enough. I’m always getting into altercations, or being micromanaged. But nobody ever says anything to the white folks. I don’t freaking get it. I have my flaws, but I’m tired of not being able to keep a job, or getting mistreated at jobs. I really want to be done. I know I shouldn’t want to die over this, but everytime I am almost out of a financial hole something like this happens.