Life seems so unfair.

It’s unfair that I have to lament at 2 AM about absolutely nothing at all.

It’s unfair that I want to accomplish a lot of things in a day but I cannot because my body is always tired and sluggish. It’s unfair that I have to invest more energy and effort in doing things “normal” people can do- going about my day, studying and even waking up.

It’s unfair that I have to become a financial burden, to at least try to have a “normal” life with all these psychiatric appointments and medicine. 

It’s unfair that I have to lie to myself that I will get better because I know for a fact that no medicine and therapy can save me, because in my 23 years of existence I have always been like this.  They say “it comes and it goes”, and that’s true, but God,  I pray everyday that it doesn’t have to come again.

It’s unfair because I know I can do so much more, if only my brain doesnt preoccupy itself with foreboding thoughts that I have to live with everyday. It’s like I cannot use a part of my brain because the oxygen and ATP of that area is specifically booked for despondency. 

It’s unfair that I have to fight to stay alive- especially when I absolutely still want to live. It’s comparable to having a switch in my mind and when it goes off I go into a default self-destruct mode. Every day of my life I fight with my own brain not to assasinate my body, because I know that the other part of me still want to have a glimpse of the next day.

And that’s the demented part,  because the next day I would feel guilty for feeling all these because I seem to have a perfect life- a loving family, a comfortable life, supportive friends and a utopian boyfriend. I absolutely love my life and satisfied that I wouldn’t change a part of that, which is a paradox in itself because I absolutely hate myself too and living with someone you hate everyday can be so exhausting.