Keep swimming.

I've felt this way before, many times, as someone who's been dealing with reincident depression since 11yo, but I've always kept on fighting. There were times when the moments where I fell lasted longer than others, but eventually I'd always find a way to get back up and keep going. Something inside of me always kept me from taking away my life. I know what it was, mostly - I didn't want to cause such trouble to the ones I loved. A wound caused from a suicide never really heals, I suppose. For my mother, my father, my grandmothers, my aunts, my brothers, my closest friends... I tell myself that this was the reason that always made me too weak to make such a decision - to finally end my pain. Because that would bring up a never healing pain to everyone who loved me. So I kept on going.

I'm not going to say I never tried. I had, sometimes, crisis that took me out of my reason and made me try in any way that I could and, for some reason, they never worked. So I just kept on going... And there is a deeper reason why I never REALLY wanted to die. I hadn't done anything to the world yet.

And I always, since I was a child, wanted to leave a mark of my own in the world. I always wanted to do something good, I had big dreams and goals, and thinking about giving up and dying without having reached any of those, not even the tiniest one, meant to me that everything I've done was worthless - so many years of fighting, struggling, trying to move on and do something good, none of that was worth it. So I could, indeed, have ended my life way back, because the suffering, despite existing, wouldn't be as deep as 10 years later, for example. After so much time, there's much more to create suffering from a suicide.

But as time keeps on going, and I keep on fighting with all my might, everything I do just ends up making things more and more difficult, and worse for me and for those who surround me, who love me. The harder I try, the more I hurt. Myself, and others.

And the thought comes back. But this time, much stronger and firmer.

Maybe there is nothing for me in this life, indeed. Which is why all of this struggle and fighting to leave a mark has no meaning, because I'm not supposed to. There is no mark for me to leave. Not in science. Not in art. The two major areas I've always loved my entire life and wanted to leave a mark in at least one of them.

There's nothing for me here.