codependent social scene

i'm honestly depressed

for the longest time, for as long as i can remember.

you could have easily attributed it as i was being such a pussy. there hasn't been any tests done whether in fact i actually have depression. so we're entirely going by gut feel here.

and my gut tells me that every day on god's green earth, a part of me will always want to die.

it's not tragic. i don't think it so. it's just sad.

i always have this inner monologue going, it's always the worst critic, and i'm almost always the target. it keeps injecting self doubt, insecurities, and the occasional self-deprecating joke. i find that alcohol and music does an awesome job of quelling the noise. but most of the time, just like a tyler durden, i just want a bullet in my head to shut it up.

i don't have a lot going for emotional support. nobody watches the watchmen. for me, it's either distractions or dwelling in my depression. i wish i could find someone who could just take care of me the right way.

perhaps one of the most difficult thing about me is that i'm the farthest thing from simple. i'm very selective with reassurance, i'm doubtful with kindness, and in some ways i'm self-sabotaging any path to happiness.


that's why i'm truly better off dead

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