I have mental health issues. I wouldn't have even thought that this would happen to me when I was growing up. I'm sure none of us really know that something like this could happen. But, in truth, I don't think I have ever not had it. Depression. Anxiety. And now it has carved out a tunnel to agoraphobia. I don't feel like I'm living. Hell, if anyone looked at my life, they would agree. They would say, "Well, I always wish that I could do nothing all day." They don't understand though. I don't do nothing all day. I think, I mourn, I die little by little, waiting for that moment to take me away.

It seems okay though. I have the best support from my loving boyfriend of many years. I have a furbaby that is my daughter. Love in not what I am missing, and indeed, I can see that I am lucky with that aspect of this ... life. But there is no love for myself. There is no motivation. No wants. No needs except for those that give me temporary relief...And temporary relief it is. Small insignificant money-sinks. Sugary foods that leave me feeling ill and hating myself. Almost as if my brain craves it just to torment me.  

What is living when you sit at a desk all day trying to escape your own mind? What is living when you lie to yourself everyday? What  is living when your own brain gives you constant reminders of how useless, helpless, and pointless you really are.

I don't know why I am writing this. It isn't a suicide note. It isn't anything. Just a piece of nothingness that will soon disappear into the depths of the internet. I may even delete this like other posts I have written. 

I doubt I'll do anything in my pointless existence. It will come and go, and only a few people will even know my name. I'm only here to stay for my boyfriend's sake, as knowing how sad he would be breaks me a little too much to make myself forgotten. So here I will dwell, with little understanding of the world, never growing, never changing.

But who knows? The love I have from my boyfriend gives me some light in the darkness. A far-a-way door that may be able to be unlocked or kicked down. But for now I am here. Staring into an abyss of black eternity and sorrow. Perhaps a therapist will care for me, and not leave me like the others. 

It is unknown. And I will be forgotten.