How I feel

 

My dad is always throwing in my face my abuse of drugs/alcohol. When I have bags under my eyes, it’s drugs. When i lay in bed on my day off, I’m hungover. When I’m not hungry, it’s both. When really, it’s depression. That’s how it works. It goes dormant for periods of time, then hits like a ton of bricks. And you can’t escape it. You can’t get rid of it. No amount of treatment, therapy, or pills will erase it. Just like the thought of ending it all. It’s always there. Always in the back of my mind. I try to ignore it. I try to say it’s not the answer. But life proves me wrong. Knowing how I look, and that I will never be satisfied. I will never look the way I want. I will never be content with my life. I will never be in a happy relationship. That’s why I’ve been single so long. No one can love me as I am. Only how I will never be. I am always interested in those I can’t have. Jassenia, Juanita, Lily, Jessica. It won’t happen. I just need to accept it. And once I do, it’ll be over. I just need to gather all my things. Once I get everything into place, I can finish the torment. End it. Once and for all.