““Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have never been depressed at all.Because I’ve never known what it’s like to just walk down the street without wanting to jump into the middle of traffic. I have yet to know what it’s like to say “I’m okay” and really mean it. I wonder what it’s like to feel that you’re enough. Because all I ever feel is how I’ll never be enough. What is it to even be enough?. I can’t tell if I’ve just become so numb to everything or I feel so much that I couldn’t really tell you what I’m feeling. What do they mean when they say it’s just a phase? Cause I’ve felt like this for years and I can’t say it gets any better. I can’t say that I’ve ever fully recovered. I relapse. Every damn year. No matter how good I think I’m getting it always comes back. No matter how many prescriptions I’ve been written. No matter how many times I’ve been to therapy. It’s always there. Doesn’t matter what time. What day. What month. I’ve come to a point where I don’t expect people to stay anymore. Because who really wants to deal with someone who’s mentally sick?. I’ve heard it all. “ I’ll always be here for you” you’re not alone” “it gets better” “ I’m sorry” “ I know what it’s like” “ you need to get out more” “ find a hobby” “ sleep earlier” how can you tell me I’m not alone? When it’s 2am or 2pm and all I fucking feel is alone. Don’t tell me you’ll be here. Because I know it’s a lie. Don’t ever tell me you’ll never leave. Because I can’t go a day without wanting to leave myself. Don’t tell me people have it worse. They’re not me. They don’t feel what I feel. And until you’ve been to the very core of my brain. Don’t tell me it’s a phase, it gets better, you’re here. Because it’s always a damn lie. When you’ve waken up everyday, giving your all. And it still wasn’t enough. When you walk down the street with the urge to jump in front of a moving car, when you look at a bridge and picture yourself jumping off, when you look at knife and think of the blade run across your skin. When you look at everyone smiling and laughing. And all you can manage to do is feel like you’re drowning, when you look at a bottle of pills and just want to down them all. When you hate looking at yourself in the mirror. When it’s 2am and you feel so fucking alone. When you starve yourself just because you don’t feel you deserve to eat. When you can do all that and still want to live everyday of your life then you can give me those bullshit excuses. Because I’m still trying to figure out how to get out of bed each morning without wanting to take a bullet to the head.“”