Dear diary

A new day has just begun, I’m sitting in a bus on my way to a mountain where we’ll wander with our exchange students today. The sun is shining, I got drunk yesterday, my boyfriend stayed for the night, we had good sex and today he left after breakfast to go to work. Everything is fine, but I wish I was dead. I don’t understand these breakdowns. I don’t understand my mind. I was so happy yesterday and now I wish I had a razor to tear apart my skin. I remember a quote from one of my favorite bands called The Pretty Reckless: my body breathes, heart still beats, but I am not alive.
That’s exactly my condition right now. Even though I’m alive, I feel dead inside.
I really don’t know what to do anymore. I try so hard, but I just can’t get away from this shit. What am I supposed to do? What do you want from me, depression?
I tried everything I could! Why are you never ever satisfied with what you get? I fucking don’t want to die, I want to survive this shit and recover and have the life that I’ve always wanted, the life that I deserve! But it just doesn’t work! I just don’t know what happiness feels like because no matter how good I feel, there’s a pain that’s with me all the time!
Whenever I feel better and things get positive, there suddenly pops up something to destroy me again. There’s a demon in my head making my life a nightmare I can’t wake up from. I just wanna cuddle up in my bed, cover my face with the blanket, turn on depressed music and never crawl out again. I try so hard to hold on and stay strong, but this is basically impossible.
What am I doing here? Why am I acting like this? Why don’t I even remember what it feels like to be lucky? On Monday (my birthday) I’ll officially have depression for four years and the ED for six. No one knows for how long my personality and impulse disorder because no one knows when it actually first came up. My psychiatrist assumes I’ve already been like this as a small child. Such a great motivation. I’ve always been sick.
I’m so incredibly endlessly sad, so desperate, so miserable. Nothing makes sense.
The pants I’m wearing today are too large now because I lost weight. But it’s not enough, not yet. I wanna be thin and fragile again even though I know it won’t make me any happier, but at least I’ll be prettier and the eating disorder will give my life a little control and sense back. I’ll have something to focus on again. The weight loss.
I won’t just keep rotting like I’m doing right now.
This body is a cage, this life a nightmare.
Sometimes I wish I could just end it, end it all, but I have to stay strong.
For me, for my sister and for my boyfriend.
But it hurts so damn much. Every day, every minute, every second of my life.
I’m so glad when I’ll finally be in hospital again in summer. I won’t feel any better there, but at least there will be people who know what to do with me because I really don’t have a clue how to handle myself anymore.
I just wanna die. Maybe I’ll do it. Maybe it will work this time. Maybe I won’t turn 17 anymore. Maybe it will be all over. Maybe it’s better that way.

anger, caroline forbes, and inspiration image

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Fading

That’s how I feel. Seriously. I feel like I’m fading away, losing myself bit by bit. I’m standing in the middle of nowhere, a wide field, and the wind is blowing and takes away piece by piece of me. My body, my personality, my soul, my emotions. Everything is slowly being ripped apart until there’s nothing left of me. The storm is getting stronger and darker and I can’t see anything anymore, not even my own hand.
It’s like I’m a fragile flower in a thunderstorm. No matter how hard I try to stay, the elements will always be cruel and stronger than me.

She’s lost in the darkness, fading away
I’m still around here, screaming her name
She’s haunting my dream world, trying to survive
My heart is frozen, I’m losing my mind
Help me, I’m buried alive

Can someone just come to me and teach me how to live?
Because I have no idea how to handle this shit and whoever I ask, I never get an answer. Well, I get answers, but they are stupid. How can people just live without thinking about what they’re doing? How are they actually able to do that? Just get through every single day, only focusing on the own stuff, loving themselves and the people around them? How can they make it without completely falling apart? Without feeling any of the bad shit that’s going on in our world? Because whenever I try to get it out the door to keep it away from me, I don’t feel anything at all anymore.
Then all the feelings disappear and it’s like I’m dead. Even worse, it’s like I’m buried alive. I wanna live, not just survive, but how am I supposed to do that? I tried it in a million different ways, but it never works.
Reality sucks. And humanity anyway. And unfortunately I’m not one of those guys who can just ignore what’s going on outside. I don’t feel like it’s my fault, I know it’s not, but I see how awful it is and that I can’t change it. I mean, what should I be happy about?
There’s nothing to be celebrated!
A boyfriend with whom the relationship will end anyway sooner or later because that’s what all love attachments do? A father who hates me? A mother who doesn’t like me the way I am? A best friend who always forgets me? A society who thinks I’m completely out of my mind? Wow, sounds great. I don’t see a reason for recovery or happiness. Nothing is getting better, actually it’s even getting worse all the time. Nothing has changed. The people, society, the world, my life, my thoughts, reality, it’s still the same shit, so why recover? It’s all fucked up and there’s no savior who’s going to come down to save us one day. Never.

I always knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I never thought it would be that hard.
Why is this happening? All of this? There’s no one to answer my questions because nobody knows. People always think I’m so strong and arrogant and have more self-confidence than any Hollywood celeb. But that’s just my masquerade. We’re all lost in here and I’m in the worst state. I just can’t do this anymore. No matter how good I feel, the pain is with me all the time. No matter how close recovery is, the next relapse is always waiting to bring me down again. It will never end, so I need to end it.
I don’t have a choice. This is tearing me apart, I’m dying inside.

I don’t care if your world is ending today
Because I wasn’t invited to it anyway!