Ever since I found out that my ex found somebody else, I've been in what feels like the worst depressive episode of my life. It's as bad as, if not worse than, when they originally left me. Yeah, they left me, and moved on first too. It fucking hurts. Our relationship was my only source of happiness, and I know that's toxic, but it worked for some reason. Nothing else has ever truly made me happy for longer than a few hours. 

I think the only thing keeping me alive is that I haven't sorted out my shit yet, like I haven't got rid of things I don't want my family to find once I'm gone. There was something I was really looking forward to in a few months, but I don't care if I live to see it anymore. I've been back to drinking heavily recently and I'm soon going to be doing my favorite drug for what is likely the last time, so here feels like the perfect place to end things. 

I work a dead-end job that is utterly mindless so all I think about during work is killing myself. I've never been career-oriented, I don't want to be a cog in the capitalism machine, and I can't force myself to study so I don't have a degree. 

Things that I should care about, like how my friends will feel once they find out I killed myself, I care about less and less everyday. If that makes me selfish then that's what I am, I suppose. Why should I stick around as essentially a lifeless body for others? Other people just annoy me at this point, I want to be left the fuck alone. 

It's been bad for years, but I truly think I'm finally out of all hope. I don't know why I'm talking about it here like somebody will care, but I just want to tell someone I guess. There's nobody in my personal life that doesn't know that I'm depressed as fuck but they can't do anything about it so why bother talking to any of my friends? I think they're just tired of me being like this, and god knows I am too.