tw: suicide and stuff like that
Hey.
I need somewhere to vent, and in the comfort that not many people would come here, I thought it was an obvious choice.
Mental illness consumes every facet of my life. Every second that passes I am stuck on a broken loop of breaking myself. I wallow in this self-created misery and I fear I can never find a proper way to stop it. I have tried crying, practically screaming for help, and everything leads to the same dead-end response of what is my own echo, reminding me that I am never going to heal.
These self-inflicted wounds that leaves a gash within my skull residing in the confines my psyche will haunt me until I am long gone. Until everything that once was is no longer, I am my own constant reminder that everything that is exists within my own perception of reality and it will be gone once I am as well. I can't stop thinking of death and how I perceive it's consequences. I can't stop thinking of every possible way I could die. I am a wreck that should have stopped years ago. I will never understand myself, I don't know how or why I am still breathing, despite numerous attempts and plans, I am still here. I would call it beautiful but it pains me, I can't function. I never planned to make it this far. I have written several suicide letters in the past, and this isn't one of those so please do not fear. I just need to get this out because I cannot keep saying I am simply depressed because this scar lingers deeper than anything I have gone through. I don't feel real, I feel so alienated from my own brain and body. The thoughts I used to have share nothing in common with what I go through day to day, I used to be fine, I used to be healthy but now I am dying. The part of me that knew how to help others cannot even help myself, and I am fracturing with each subtle move.
I am no longer human, I no longer feel alive at my core. I lie dormant waiting for the end but I cannot rush it. I must sit in agony and wait for it to arrive to me. I couldn't even do it if I wanted to. I can't live this life anymore, expecting things to change. I need to either accept this is how it will be, each inhale a hopeful tune, to an exhale of disappointment and regret. Or, I need to do something about it, but I am at a loss for what should be done there. Trauma fills every pore of my skin, seeping into how I walk, talk, and live. I need to let go.