Depression. Written by a girl who doesn’t matter.


To say I hate myself would be an understatement. See, I don’t just hate myself. I am disgusted with myself. I am pretty sure I am the most worthless thing on this planet. I am not human you see. Well, you don’t, because nobody besides me sees the truth. I am this worthless filthy thing that dresses like a human, talks like a human, thinks like a human, even looks like one, but I am not. I am me, and I am not sure what that is.
I am useless. I am poison. Literally everything and everyone that comes into contact with me will perish at one point. It might take a week, it might take ten years, but I will poison you.

I am worthless, I cant do anything right and even the things that I might have done at one point, I will screw up completely the next time. You shouldn’t fuss about me, nobody should. But they do, because they don’t believe I am filth, but I am.
You’re nice they say, I don’t understand why because I am not.
You’re cute they say, no I am not.
I love you.. why oh why???? Why would you waste such a feeling on me?
Why would you waste anything on me?
I am a waste of space, time, air.
I don’t want to die, but I do want to be dead. It’s the depression talking, its not you, you do have worth, you are a wonderful person and you have so much to live for.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah BLAH.

If life is so great and I have so much to live for, why don’t you take over my life. See how you like it when you are in debt up until your eyeballs. See how you like living of 20 euro a week because your mother gives you that. Do you know how much food you can buy from 20 a week? Not enough to feed two people, and four animals. Not enough to pay all the bills that keep coming. And then stand next to the person who says that they really wanted that new phone but couldn’t buy it cause it was 700 euro and then were short 10. I want to rip their throats out. With 700 euro I could pay off some bills so the assholes stop coming for another month. But I wont, I don’t even say anything, because its not their fault I am in this position. Its my own. I was the one that didn’t finish college. I was the one that had to let the voices in my head control my actions. I should of just let the knife slit my wrists, but I didn’t want my then roommate to find me.

Get rid of the person living with you for three years and not working? Get rid of the animals?
Cant do that. I love the animals too much. And I need that person to work so I can pay off some debts and actually eat a decent meal more then once a week, and maybe, just maybe, not feel like the biggest loser on this planet. Maybe, just maybe, I can pretend to be the human I once must have been.

Nearly almost certain I once must have been a human.
Must have been something else then this.

I am still a virgin. I will be 29 this year. Pathetic isn’t it. Have never been truly kissed by a man. Have never been truly loved by a man. Will probably never be loved by a good man.
Because what kind of man would want me? Bile rises in my own mouth when I think of myself. I am fat. Disgustingly so. I am ugly, and stupid, with an IQ of 132 last time I checked which was nearly eight years ago, so it must be higher now. I am a good teacher, I can get along with kids and animals. I’ve published a novel, wrote another book, and are now writing my third. I am the most useless, horribly disgusting pretend of a human I have ever seen. I hate myself. I loathe myself. I despise myself.
And all the therapy of the world hasn’t changed that. Medication hasn’t. Talking with friends hasn’t. Writing about it hasn’t. Living with it every day hasn’t.
All I want to do is lay down on my bed and hope my heart stops beating. But it doesn’t, that should probably make me happy, it doesn’t.

Written by a girl who doesn’t matter.



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  1. Anonymous says:

    Thanks Ness. I might not always show it but I do value your friendship. Even if it is better for you to never have met me.

    • Anonymous says:

      Yes Gemma, all I wrote there is the truth. I have tons of these kind of entries written about myself. It always helps a little, but only enough to keep bumbling on another day.
      I used to be in therapy, but I can’t afford that any more. That actually helped the most. I am still on meds, they keep my mind functioning, but make my body sick. One day, when my responsibilities are minimum, I will kill myself. And God and I made a deal, no more lives after that. I can just disappear into nothingness. Maybe if people remember how miserable I was alive, they wont mourn me when I am dead.

      Anyway, babbling again. I shall muzzle myself now.

  2. sherri mse fordham

    Wow, this has really affected me reading this. I suffer from Bi-polar. I have been on anti-depressents since the young age of 13. I am 36 now and still even though i take lots of medication everyday and see a psychiatrist every few weeks i still have low times. I can sympathise with what you are feeling but believe me once the black hole has lifted it does improve and you will feel more human. Big hugs x

    • Anonymous says:

      Honestly, I don’t believe that anymore. It’s been two years since this post, and somehow I am still here, but things have not improved much.
      I did kick that person who lived with me out, but because there is no extra money coming, I am still behind.
      I don’t have food for this week, and no money until at least Thursday. I suppose I could ask my mom. She doesn’t give me the 20 anymore.
      Being alone is difficult. At least that person knew when I was in my head, and sometimes made it better. Now, there’s nothing but the walls and the animals, and the walls don’t talk back. I don’t think the black hole will ever lift. I think the black hole is me.

  3. Laura Corrall

    This is so sad. I honestly can begin to think how it must be to feel like that and in that situation and it’s such a shame that help of any kind would cost so much. Like the people before me have commented you deserve to be happy in yourself and that black hole will eventually get lighter.

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