I haven't been officially diagnosed with anything seeing as how I don't want to visit a doctor or psychologist, therapist, etc. Although I'm a good 85% sure I have mild to moderate depression. I don't mean depression as "Oh my god I just broke up with my boyfriend I'm so depressed" or "Oh my god I'm failing this class I'm so depressed." I'm talking about actual depression.
Some of my per say "symptoms" or whatever you'd like to call them, things that come along with my depression are pretty common. I don't want to be alive anymore, not that I want to die either. I just, don't want to exist. Like, I despise life and wake up every morning miserable that I have to endure another day of this, it drives me crazy. Mornings are the worst for me, not because of things like doing repetitive things every single day without change only to be socially acceptable. I hate mornings because I hate myself. (Sorry for ranting) At the same time, I'd never commit suicide because I'd be affecting people I'm close to and I don't want to put them through that grief. The thought that their only son, or their friend went off and killed themselves. It's pretty selfish. I'm sort of hoping I contract some disease soon that kills me, so I don't have to shame my family by having their son commit suicide. I just want life to stop, I want to be calm. To be happy again.
Another thing is definitely the emptiness. That eats away at me daily and I struggle to do anything because of it. I'm talking about a lack of emotion, I'm never happy, I'm never intrigued by anything anymore, I tend to not have any concern for trivial everyday matters such as homework or television shows etc. The only time my emotions show is when I'm in a really dark mood or when I'm directly thinking about my depression. These emotions are more often than not hatred and sorrow (not too surprising) although every once and a while I think about the people I'm close to when in these situations and I sometimes have good thoughts. Mehh, it's sort of weird. Anywho, I generally have a pessimistic outlook on life so I begin to hate things above anything else, if any feelings towards something at all. I hate humans, I hate this country, and your country, and that country I never heard of on the other side of the world, I hate the way this society functions, the way my government and family treats me, but above all else. I hate myself the most. My life isn't bad, in the slightest. I have a decent life, so why the **** am I so upset all the time? I have no reason to be and it makes me feel worse because of all the other people who have it so much worse than me who have such a positive outlook on life. I can't ****ing stand how much of a ****up I am. I guess I'll stop ranting about myself for a second.
Welp, a second passed >.> Another thing that came along with the depression was running away from myself. Why would I want to sit here and willingly listen to all the things I have to say? It'll only lead to suicidal thoughts, every single time without fail. So, instead, I ran away from my thoughts. I soon learned that my bed was the best place to be. Because when you're sleeping, you're not thinking. And when you're not thinking, you're finally calm, happy. Although, one can only sleep for so long until they awake so I turned to other things that kept me busy during my hours awake. I turned to alcohol, if I was drinking I couldn't think clearly nor remember it the next day so it seemed like a viable solution for my dilemma.
The last thing that came with my personal depression was cutting. Yeah, I don't like hearing that either. I cut for 4 reasons, 2 smaller reasons and 2 larger reasons. The smaller reasons for that adrenaline rush, to know that I was alive, I was a human being like everyone else. Also, to vent rage that I felt towards myself. It was a system that harmed or affected anyone but myself so I felt like it was a good outlet. The larger reasons a bit more complex. The first one is to know I wasn't empty inside. I would go day in and day out thinking I was empty inside for not having any emotion, I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't possibly be like anyone else (This is how skewed my mind was). So when I put that blade to my wrist, and saw the blood come out, it let me know I wasn't empty inside. That I was human. The other aspect was for control. I had little to no control over anything in my life, everything I did was dictated by someone or something else, the daily routines in the morning dictated by society to fit in, school was forced upon by parents and government. etc. etc. Cutting myself was one of the few things I could actually control. I could put the blade to my wrist when I wanted, how I wanted, it was mine to control. Or so I thought, until I'd sit in school not able to focus thinking to myself "I need to cut, I need to cut, I need to cut" over and over again. I'd go home, put on a fake smile, tell my mother school was wonderful, go to my room, shut the door, take out my blade, slit my wrists and cry. I always made sure to never go too deep, I couldn't leave scars. I couldn't let people know what I was going through. I didn't want to bother them. I was a nuisance enough.
Sorry for ranting like, a lot. Even though I doubt anyone will read this it makes me happier just to get it out there. Talking is a form of venting, it's just I don't have anyone to really vent to. Well, I do, I just don't want to bother them. So, a bit of an update. This was the worst my depression got, it was at its worst two years ago. I also got out of my depression two years ago but recently I've been becoming depressed again. It's not as bad. I don't drink anymore, and I quit cutting myself last month. So hopefully I'll be getting better.