What if my excuse of depression doesn't count one day?

 What if my excuse of depression doesn't count one day? 
My perceived sadness and exhaustion doesn't get a say, 
I get called out for my laziness and that I am actually okay. 

What if all this is just a big ass show, 

and in reality i am just slow. 

I guess you reap what you sow. 

What if I really just hurt myself for attention, 

what if all my scars are just another extension, 

of my self love and my narcissm dimension? 

What if my attempt to end this fuckin life, 

was just another way to experience the knife, 

and the thrill of being alive. 

What if I am really just useless. 

22

You're only 22 they say. You can't be tired of life. 

You have got your whole life ahead of you. 

But I also have my whole life behind me. 

22 years that ended in this. A sad piece of shit that can't get their shit together for even one day. Finds media and immediatly consumes it. No measurement needed, lets just gulp it all down. Why would we sleep anyways? Sleep is for the weak. 

But sleep used to be our sanctuary. "It's like being dead without the commitment", thats what I said. 

The real question is: Do I really want to die. 

End my existence and all chance for a possible good ending. Not that I think that I will have one. I dont get lucky. I already had enough luck being born into this family at this time, do we really think I deserve any more? Honestly I dont think I deserve anything. 

Is this the mental disorder talking? I dont know. 

Is there a seperation between me and the mental disorder? My formative growing up years were dominated by selfhatred. I don't know anything else, my childhood drowned out by days of starvation, selfharm and painful memories. My personality is my depression, and my depression is my personality. 

Pessimistic Optimist or optimistic Pesssimist, is there really a Difference? In the end we all go in the ground and are forgotten after atleast 100 years. (Outliers proving the thesis here)

So why would I attempt to try. I have fought for 4 years now. Since I left school. 

Im 22 now. 

Used to think I wouldnt make it past 20. Or even past 19. I honestly didnt even believe I would make it to the next day, but I never really did it, did I? Apart from the couple of times when I failed, that no almost no one knows about. 
I wish I had tried harder. At everything. 

Not only the killing myself part, but also the life part. The part where you make friendships and keep them up. I dont talk to people from my school because I closed myself completely off the last two years I was there. I was so deep in my selfhatred that I am still convinced the teachers mustve faked my grades. How could I, who was basically asleep the entire year, manage a passable grade? 

Now I am scared of making new friends. After a couple of weeks they always leave. When they notice my jokes are getting repetetitve, or when they catch me in a bad mood. 

I am always angry and lash out. I am like a wounded animal, barely able to control myself, in complete survivor mode. Constantly on edge, praying to survive another day for then salvation might come. 

But it never does. 

Life keeps moving, I keep surviving. 

And most importantly, hating myself. 

The slight blur of life

Haze,
like the fog setting down on a town after the day has ended.

The slight blur of life, 

the neverending stream of light, 

all those voices and all those dreams, 

always slightly out of sight. 

Dark white fog setting in, 

slowly clouding my mind. 

And every day that I continue life, 

I leave my concious soul behind. 

Maybe this is how it meant to be, 

being awake isnt the life for me. 

A sweet lie instead of a painful truth, 

until white fog is all I see. 

Goodbye cruel world

 to be called hard working and deserve success you have to actually work a lot. 

i dont like it

I hate this. I am talknig to a person and I am boiling with anger. this conversation is absolutely pointless, we have very different viewpoints and he has been talkng down to me.
But then I realize.
Is this how humans feel when they are talking to me. This is terrible. How can I exist in this world where I inflict this stupid feeling of anger and bottled up "i wanna hit them in the face".
because how dare i. how.

is this what i do to this world. how can i continue existing when this is what i do to people, where they wanna rip their face off because the conversation is so annoying. 

Have you learned how to suffer yet

One hit, two hit, three,
my bloody lip is all you see.
Four hit, Five hit, six hit, Hi,
am I still pretty when I smile?

Well, have you learned how to suffer yet,
how to enjoy all the pain and be without regret,
Use the blood as fuel to nurture the fire,
make it so pain is all you desire.

Because this world is  unforgiving,
Sinning is the only way of living,
And if you dare to have a good heart,
this world will absolutely rip you apart.



Use your blood to shine your shoes because theyll be upset if you dont look your best. 

friends with famous people

Sometimes I wonder about famous people.
How do they get friends? Everyone around them must want so much from them and they are just humans trying to exist in this world. I hope they have genuine friendships.
I would be their friend. But then again no. Because humans are difficult.
But I would like to try to be their friend. A couple conversations without being seen as a fan, as an equal. Just a friendly chat with no predjudice.
I would make the best sarcastic celebrity friend though. Just sending them memes about them all the time while also being super supportive and always having cookies and their favourite chips at home so they can have some when theyre in the neighbourhood. I would insult them to their face while we both can't breath because of a joke someone said, they would retaliate with their Instagram Follower count and I would make a scene, pretending to be upset that they dont share their clout with me. We would have a good laugh and continue watching the netflix series.
It just you know.
Maybe would be fun. 

I am worried

I am worried. 

I am worried about money. I dont have enough. Not to sometimes order out when I dont feel like cooking, but also not to buy myself something new if a thing breaks. My mouse is broken. It's movement is slowing down more and more and while I can still adjust the Speed on the Computer to counterbalance it, this is only a temporary solution and there is only so far the speed can go. 

I am worried about my mental health. I pretend that I am fine most of the time and I dont have any really bad episodes since Im still doing quite a lot of work (a lot of uni online lectures and some tasks), but i know it soon wont be enough. Soon those couple of hours of work, 8 hours of lectures per week plus some time with other tasks wont be enough. I already feel it slipping away, feeling like no matter how much I do I am never enough. How I want to continue for another hour and another and when I inevitably give up I feel like a failure. Even now Im watching a lecture while writing this and I missed a couple minutes. 

I am worried about my selfharm. I would love to start cutting again. I kind of already have, though its well hidden. And I know how quickly I would escalate. The only thing holding me back right now is that my boyfriend would be upset. Nothing else. Scary, innit. 

I am worried about my cats. I never can really read if they are happy. One moment I feel like they love me, when Poro massages my chests in the morning or when Ichi is on my lap, eyes closed and somewhat cuddled into my arms. But then they shout again, or they leave to quickly. They hide on the bed or move somewhat weird. And I start to worry. Apart from that I am constantly worried that they might be sick. I would just keep getting them checked because thats like 20 euros but travelling to the vet means taking a taxi (or causing great discomfort for the cats and me) which costs 50 euros if im lucky, sometimes even more. 

I am worried about my medication. While I have quite a lot of my sleeping/calming medication, my antidepressants are more or less empty. I have a couple of doses left to keep for really bad days, but besides that I am fucked. I tried to get some more, but ended up in a telephone chain. 

I am worried about my sleeping schedule. It is 8 am and I havent yet slept. I dont feel too tired, but I never do until its too late. I feel a slight cloud setting on my brain, but that is pleasant. I cant hate myself as much if I am slightly dazed. 

I am worried about what I eat. I am constantly reminded that whatever I cook, ill have to clean again. and While that wouldnt be too bad, if i want to eat something healthy i have problems with portion sizes and that i just dont have enough pots, not enough places on the stove. And the healthier the meal, the more different ingredients i need to prepare and the more ill need to clean afterwards. 

I am just worried and Id like to stop spending my time worrying, and would like to sometimes maybe live. 

Shameless

I had a dream today.
I was part of the Gallagher family, together with my sister. Im not sure if we were added, or replaced some parts of it, but I know that the older boys were still part of it. And we were a wonderful family. Holding together against the adults, surviving againist the odd. It was great.
I felt so at home, more than I have ever felt before.
We mastered school, family coming to visit and stress from school.
I think grandpa was sometimes pickung us up from school, and we were too many to fit in the car so I would play rock paper scissor with Ian, to decide who of us had to walk home.

In the end our mother got sick and we held together and the dream ended with me getting the script instruction that I would have to kill myself.

We also had a sea somewhere closeby and to escape the family we would swim to an island in the middle together, no matter how cold the water was.

I was happy and I got awoken by a doorbell. I dont know.