Everyone throws out these meaningless sayings like pull yourself up by your bootsraps, take it day by day, learn to be happy alone. I've done that. For years.

And it's only gotten me to my lowest point ever. I have no one left, apart from a few rapidly fading peripheral internet friends. I'm living with my parents again, at 26. Sure, you could say at least I have them, and I love them, but they have historically not dealt well with me showing any signs of depression, and it's getting harder and harder not to let that mask slip.

I'm trying to find work, but there aren't many options for me now. I wasted my youth not getting enough skills for society to consider me "useful". And I'm so on edge, I worry if I do find something, that next mental breakdown is just one bad day away.

I've tried to keep my old friendships alive, but it doesn't work. I can tell a mile away at this point. Texts that go unanswered, left on seen. Attempts to catch up that end up a few exchanged messages at best. I'm not a terrible person, at least I don't think I am. But I hate myself, because I feel everyone else must see me as such, for reasons I'm not entirely certain of. 

The ONE explanation I have had is the times I've let the mask slip and even hinted at how much pain I'm in. That's when people start to get uncomfortable. That's when people start to leave. I try so hard not to put my problems on anyone else. That's something I'm not allowed to do. But the slightest slip seems to be enough.

I've tried to meet new people, but it seems impossible. Even those rare, and I mean extremely rare, opportunities I have the chance to talk to have more than just a passing conversation with someone, I'm unable to take advantage of them anymore. I can't control these feelings of anxiety anymore. I only see people who are out to judge and hurt me, even if they haven't show it yet. I know in my mind that they will. And I don't have the energy to keep trying anymore.

I'm a relatively talented writer, but not enough. I've written a lot. Done a lot of work. But the chances of success in that regard are slim, even if I was a straight up genius. And I'd still need people, connections, marketing, and to do a lot more work than I've already done, only to be left with the likelihood it won't go anywhere anyway.

But I try. I try to do what everyone says I should. Keep pushing. Keep trying to fix it. Even if it's alone. Even if it's baby steps at a time. But that's just it. Time. Time is something I'm running out of. I can't live broke anymore. 

And if I keep doing it all alone, if I keep trying to push myself to, I will either break down utterly and irreversibly, or become so jaded and cold, so used to being rejected or cutting my losses before that rejection can be allowed to happen that I won't be able to feel a damn thing for anyone anymore. I'm already becoming like that. And I don't like it.

I think about suicide on some level almost every day now. I don't think I have the courage to go through with it. But even a 0.1% chance of me deciding to take action each day is an eventuality, given enough time. 

I don't know what to do anymore.