I feel tired (although it seems a bit repetitive since my last blog post started with this). I guess I just feel emotionally drained. My reservoir of energy is depleted with not much left. I think its made worse by the time of year, everyone looking forward to the holidays, everyone excited for this one ultimate day where you are supposed to spend $$$$ on people who you never see. In this parade you must also show how happy you are, but putting on that mask for another Christmas just seems too hard. I don't know if I can go another year of pretending like everything is wonderful. Pretending that my life is not consumed by this constant desire to rid myself from this earth. This time of year also scares me because it makes me realise how utterly alone I am, how I have people that I will see on Christmas day (purely because I don't think I would do well staying at home on my own all day), but these people are constant reminders of the life I'm not living, the fact that my life is empty and void of the one thing that makes life worth living. I just wish I could be honest and share myself with someone, and not feel so alone. I don't think its too much to ask of this life, just one person that thinks that I'm not the hideous beast that I feel I am. I just feel so utterly alone. The day dreaming no longer comforts me, because its a reminder of how empty my life has been, and how without the fantasies I am just a sad and depressed weak person that has the most empty life which i have created for myself.

I feel like I'm on this huge island, and there is no way out, and each day is as predictable as the next, the sun continues to rise and fall, the trees grow and eventually die, and I remain completely alone. At times I get a glimpse of life, I see people on the other island enjoying themselves, actually living instead of merely existing. And my heart longs to just experience that feeling of living once in my life, but I cant, for I am doomed never to be able to swim, so here I am, eternally punished to remain on this island alone without any future, whilst continually shown what living is like for other people. All I wish is that I could have someone from that island to notice me, even a wave would be amazing, but instead I am invisible, they are so busy enjoying themselves they do not notice the empty and depressed shell of a person that is me. This eternal hell, of being able to see it, but tortured by the fact that I can never touch or be a part of that world. This bitter emptiness consumes me more day by day. I wonder how much longer I can hold on and fight before the loneliness finally takes me last breath.

Thought I might as well use this as a form of expression, I find it hard to put the pen to paper, my brain sometimes focuses too much on the neatness of the writing for it to be therapeutic.

I feel so tired. Tired of everything. I am so fed up with my life. And I am fed up with trying to hide. I feel like I have been hiding my whole life, and it has gotten me nowhere. The walls that I built to protect me are now my cage. My self-loathing is at an all time high. My daydreaming and fantasies can no longer prolong the inevitable depression. I feel so highly emotional, like I have this complete ache in my heart that is so overwhelming that it closes my throat over and I can barely breathe.

I have recently tried really hard to improve my self-worth, and have started exercising etc to try and get me motivated. Instead, I find it has made my depression worse. I guess if I try to present myself as a living human being, and I get rejected, well that makes it worse than if I pretend I dont care, and opt-out of actually living? I have pretended for the past 18 years that I am really dead, I am in a nightmare, and one day I will wake up from it, and I will be the person that I should have been. Instead, after every fitful sleep, I wake up to the same lousy existence that I desperately tried to escape from as I was falling into slumber. For the last few years, I have slept most of my life away, my sleep as a way to dull the horrible voice inside my head, that screams that I should be guilty for taking up the air which could actually be put to good use by someone. Even my name makes me feel sick, I feel like my name represents this ugliness that is me. And I can’t escape it. No matter what I do, who I pretend to be, at the end of the day there is me and only me, the voice in my head will follow me everywhere I go, and remind me of what a meaningless existence I have. What a complete and utter waste of life.

No matter what cognitive strategies I have learnt, no matter what coping skills I try, they only prolong the inevitable feeling of utter despair and disgust at the thing that stares back at me in the mirror. So now I will sleep, hoping to prolong the voice once more, even if only for a few hours.