My Depression Confessions

because when they need you to do something again, their reaction to saying no or asking for compensation will be met with rage.

the fact that my own mother got mad at me (for what she deemed as a complaint) because I mentioned that all the money I had been saving (which went to the last family disaster) was going towards my otome game, which now have to be put on hold for a few months because it'll take me a while to get those savings back to pay my artist for concept pieces. 

not to mention her birthday and my sister’s 16th is coming up in august (mine sitting in the middle) and I’ll have to try and find a way find the money for presents. money I don’t have anymore.

and now apparently asking for anything on my wishlist is off the table. So no money to pay my artist, no new hakuouki game, no donations to the animal shelter, no clothing and no online purchases. why? because it’s not 21st enough. 

what the fuck does that even mean anyway? it’s a number. a number I don’t want to remind myself of. yes, i’m 21 and I haven't done anything worthy of note. a nice fucken reminder I need right now.

maybe it’s a huge thing in america, being the legal drinking age. but over here it means nothing. or rather it shouldn't mean anything. oh no, let’s celebrate because america does. why? why not. 

yeah i’m pissed. the one time i’m allowed to selfishly ask for something I actually want isn’t going to happen this year. this year I’m going to be stuck with presents that people want to give me because im ‘turning 21′. so incoming fucken golden keys and home loan joke presents. 

Oh I’m sorry that having a mental illness makes you feel uncomfortable. I’ll just say I’m feeling sick so you feel better.

urgh. I’m so fricken tired of pussyfooting around everyone else. I feel like shit enough as it is without having to check that what I’m about to say/do won’t be affecting everyone. like jfc. grow the fuck up. we’re all messed up. I’m just the only one honest about it.

two little words that make me strong

two little words that keep them out

two little words that say I’m okay

Those three little words

“Are you okay?”

Permission to cry

Permission to scream

Permission to break down again

How weak am I?

My name is Sarah.

I am 20 years old.

I was born in Australia.

I live with my mother and sister.

I wish my father would rot in hell.

I wish I wasn’t so pathetic. 

If I could disappear without hurting anyone I would do so in an instant.

I’ve tried to die on multiple occasions.

My last attempt was two months ago.

I’d been considering it for a while but it was the first time I was home alone.

I locked myself in the bathroom.

I had everything ready.

My dog was barking and scratching at the door.

Enough that my neighbours knocked on the door to see if I was alright.

It was strange.

I acted like everything was fine.

Unlocked my front door and said I’d left something on.

Convinced them and they left.

My dog wasn’t convinced.

My darling dog wouldn’t leave me alone.

He knew.

Knew that if I was really alone I would have done it.

I hated him for hours.

When they finally came back I was fine.

I promised him that I wouldn’t try again.

As long as he lives.

Which is going to hurt because I know he doesn’t have long.

I think that’s why he’s still hanging around.

He knows before everyone else does.

He can sense it in me.

my darling dog keeps me alive.