I don’t want to live anymore

I never have kept it a secret from my husband when I wanted to not be here anymore. I let him know when I felt this way.

When I willingly start sharing my feelings, I am actually calling for help. My husband did not know this.

Pay attention!

Listen!

Sharing my feelings is natural reaction to how I am feelings inside. And it’s not a secret.

My soul new I wasn’t going anywhere.

But I still needed out of this dark,

darker than dark….

existence.

It’s a very hopeless feeling.

Depression.

How do I even begin to describe it?

It seems so twisted that I could be feeling this way inside, but then on the outside I could be laughing with my friends or be making dinner while listening to music.

I felt fake.

But nobody knew that.

I am strong.

I think my subconscious…. my soul…is fierce.

If my subconscious was done living as well as my conscious…

I’d be long gone.

I just kept going. Doing those things that I need to do to take care of my family.

I never wanted to be a victim.

There is so much internal fight.

It takes so much strength.

I live for my kids.

Depression:

It’s negative.

It’s complaining.

It’s harmful.

It’s angry.

It’s the end.

Everything is pointless.

There are no good reasons for anything.

Nothing matters.

Nothing is fun.

Nothing is funny.

There is no hope.

There is nothing to hold onto.

There is no energy.

I don’t care.

Everyone hates me.

I’m invisible.

I’m forgotten.

I want to disappear.

I want to cuss out the world.

I want to move.

I want to start over.

Everyone bugs me.

I’m agitated.

I’m sad.

I’m lonely.

I’m irrational.

My mind doesn’t think about anything else in the thick of it.

Everyone is interrupting my thoughts.

I hate being interrupted.

Nothing matters.

I want to sleep. A lot!

I lose my appetite.

I’m demanding.

I’m drowning.

I’m overtaken.