#saddest

I have never felt more alone and disconnected from people.

I don’t even seem to be good enough for people to care when they lose me.

No one is ever sad for losing me and that shit hurts.

Im not someone who thinks a lot about suicide but the picture keeps crossing my mind tho.

It’s been really bad lately and my urge to self harm is increasing with every day that I lay in bed and can’t sleep. I don’t know how long I will be able to take this anymore. My anxiety is high , my depression is dark, my mental health zero. It’s getting bad. Like fucking bad.

I don’t want to be in that dark narrow place again. I know what it is like to be there. I don’t like it. But the road is never ending and the finish line seems to be there. It’s really hard to be holding on to that little light that is left but slowly is vanishing.

I’m tired, exhausted, Empty, numb and in pain. I know I’m not the only one feeling this way, but still it’s hard feeling this way not knowing what to do to feel better , I mean at least being able to not feel guilty about everything and nothing. I would get help , but at the moment there is no way I’m getting the help I need.

Right now i just want to be sure I’ll wake up tomorrow morning. Or not. I don’t even know.

That’s the point. I’m confused if I want to live or not. I don’t wanna die. But living is painful. So what do I want. I don’t know if I have the strength to keep going and constantly feel like I’m suffocating and drowning trying to scream but instead my lungs fill up with water and I’m no longer able to breath.

But i don’t know if I have the strength to let go once and for all, leaving my mom and my loved ones behind either. It’s difficult because I want to keep going but the is just no more energy left for doing so.

I’m carrying a bag of stones. Stones I carry with me all day long and when I’m at home I finally break down because I can’t take that weight.

When I lay in bed the only thing I feel is a weight on my chest that makes me breath heavily and panic.

Im alone. I can’t talk to anyone. The first question I get is „why“. Oh god if I knew why. That’s a question I ask myself a lot. „Why me?“ „why now?“ „why again?“ „why is this happening?“. I have no answer to that question. It makes me anxious getting that question and not having an explanation. How can I reach out for help if I do not have any reason to feel the way I do.

I don’t understand. And so don’t the others.

They don’t understand my struggle. I have a home, family, friends, food,.. more than a lot of people on this planet have and yet I feel lost, lonely and empty. Somebody that did not feel those things and this darkness can not understand how it feels. They can not understand how tiring living is.

They can not understand how difficult it is to put on a mask everyday so nobody asks you “what’s wrong?” And so you don’t have to answer with “I don’t know.” That’s the point. Again. I don’t know what’s wrong. Too much is wrong with me. And then they go like “no seriously, there must be something that causes this”. And that’s upsetting. Because I would want to know what’s wrong.

It’s exhausting and tiring.

I don’t want to bother anyone or be a burden because that’s how I feel. That’s what I am for me.

I want to go out. I want to have fun. I want to live. I want to be able to be at peace with my mind and myself. It’s just not that easy.

Do you see the struggle

In my eyes

Do you see how I’m trapped

Inside of my mind

Do you see through my mask

Because it’s slowly cracking

Do you see my hidden tears

The ones I’ve been masking

Do you see my imperfections

The ones I try so hard to hide

Can you see my contemplation

When I think thoughts of suicide

Can you see that I’m trying

But it’s never enough

Can you see I’m a failure

Although I never give up

Do you see how my smile

Never reaches my eyes

Do you see how I’m just a girl

Hiding in disguise

You would never call me pretty

If you could see my scars

You’d never think I’m worth it

If you looked through my eyes

Can’t you see

All I am is a broken mess

Like a shattered mirror

You can never fix.

-Alex Bayes