LogFAQs > #966264725

The only reason I'm still around is I hate the idea of hurting people that care about me if I do what I've wanted to do since my early teens. They said it was depression, they said it was a phase, they said I'd grow out of it. None of that was true. I've felt this way for so many years now that I've become cold to my own apathy for life. I don't really enjoy anything. Any happiness I manage to scrape together fades away just as fast. Nothing lasts, so even if I do enjoy something, it doesn't feel real and I quickly ruin it with my own intrusive thoughts. I don't feel like anything really matters. On days like today, where nothing really went wrong, I can hold together and feel mostly okay. The bad days send me into dark, dark spirals. I drink myself comatose just to get through it. On the bad days, I feel raw. Like my skin is flayed and just existing fees like rubbing alcohol into a cut, but in my mind, and it suffocates every thought until all I can think about is when all this will finally be over and I can just cease to be.

so yeah it's okay i guess