So I’ve posted on here a couple times. Just little writings about some things I struggle with. Because that’s what I do when it gets too much. It all comes out in a jumble of words that sometimes I can put together and sometimes I can’t. 

See, here’s the thing. I struggle with depression quite a bit, anxiety as well, and a little bit of ptsd but that’s another story for another day. Maybe. But lately, I’ve found myself falling into depressive episodes more and more. And so the clothes on the floor build up and wrappers and cups and all kinds of manner of food containers and such. I’m sure that anyone else with depression knows what I’m talking about. And I live with my sister even though I’m 20, because my last parent that was alive passed last September. And she hates seeing my room like that. And I know that she just wants the best for me and she wants me to better. But she doesn’t understand and when she tries to “get through to me” to get me to keep my room clean, she says everything that I’m already thinking. And I fall deeper into the pit I’ve been trying to pull myself out of. She thinks I need to move on and get over it. I know she just wants me to be better. But how can I when she says things that I know means she thinks I’m making it up when everyday I wake up, and I just want to go back to sleep because all I feel is the empty chasm that my depression gives me and the sting of everything I knew being gone. 

I’m not suicidal. I honestly don’t know how it hasn’t come to that with how difficult living with this has been for me, but it hasn’t. I just feel like I’m fading away and I don’t know how to fix it or stop it