This prehumous letter

Becky MCR's picture

This prehumous letter

*It's like you want me to fail.*
I'm so mentally and physically drained all the time. I seem to be doing something with every hour. College, family, work. I have to go to college 3 days a week, but I'm ill and it's so hard to concentrate, yet I can't stay home because I have to have high attendance to pass the course, plus I have a 'long-term illness' (it's depression) that the college know about and I should be 'managing it' so it's not a reasonable excuse. I have to spend time with my immediate family everyday. We eat dinner together. Fine. But sometimes I don't want to watch TV. I want to hole up in my room and read or listen to music. But no, I do that too often. Watching TV will help me unwind just as well. I have to see my grandparents once a week as well, if I don't, I feel guilty, and when I do, I'm not good company because I'm completely drained and exhausted. Work, well I can't turn that down, it's my only source of income for gig tickets, CDs, etc that make me happy.

*Motivate me, I need to get myself out of my head.*
I'm so sheltered though. I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I go to college because it's whats expected of me. To be honest, I'm quite happy to work in a shop for the rest of my life, but that would make me even more of a disappointment. The real world terrifies me. I don't want to be stuck in a job I don't like because my depression helped cripple my brain and destroy everything I had worked for. My parents think I'm lazy. I'm not. I have a side effect of depression that causes my motivation to be zero. I feel so helpless.

*There's a monster in my head, it won't go away.*
The monsters are here. I can't go on like this. I can't see a point, I can't see an end to all of this. Sometimes I can't even find a reason to stay. I hate this. They're tearing at my face, clawing at my skin. They want to be let out. They want to rip me apart. They're ripping me apart. But no one sees it. Everyone just sees what they want to see, what I want them to see. If they saw me fall apart, would that be a bad thing? But who would I tell? The people I love have their own problems, and I cannot place mine upon them too. So now what? That eliminates everyone I would ever tell. Apart from strangers on the internet. But what use is that when physical comfort and friendship is what I need?

*Don't cry for me, it's over say goodbye."
I let the monsters in. Bad habits have been re-evoked. They say bad habits die hard, but the worst ones are always bubbling underneath the surface. I need a break. But how to get away? There is no escape. The monsters follow me. The monsters are me. No matter where I go, or what I do, they'll always be with me. How could I begin to explain this anguish to someone who knows me, who can see my emotions, who will slowly blame themselves for the twisted creature I have become. I cannot see how family can help the matter, my relationship with the one person who has even a hope of understanding what I'm going through is shoddy to say the least. Not to mention, she would take some of the blame, and I would let her because some of this is on her.

*We can't die, we're dead inside.*
Who knows what the next chapter has in store for me, but I can't help hoping that death will come for me. It's easy to live and it's easy to die. People forget that both are terrifying and painful and take 2 different types of courage. If I disassociate myself from this world, maybe I can achieve both. Maybe I am the living dead.