Depression is the hardest thing I deal with on a day to day basis. Im sat here without any motivation, without any hope, and all I wanna do is curl up in bed and pretend to be dead, but I cant, because I did that earlier. I would be doing everyone a lot of favours if I just curled up and died, I feel it would be good. I really dont matter, Im unlovable. 

Im the broken toy your dad cant fix, im the one sock with a hole in it, that bear you left at a beach when you were 7 and cant remember. Im disposable, unfixable and replaceable. Im a pain in everyones backside, good for nothing and I just cause issues. I feel like a waste of space, although I dont deserve the air I breathe.

I want to matter, and I want to feel like I should and can. But my mind takes me back to the yelling, the hitting, all the things that were said to make me believe I was the one at fault, like these mistakes were mine and not my abusers. I think back to school and all the times I was bullied, laughed at, strangled. The amount of jokes I was the subject of. 

I think back to visiting my nan, my abusive father would go off with her in the kitchen and me and my sister would sit in the living room and she would start hitting me, kicking me, pushing me onto the floor. I would always leave so heavily bruised. And if I dared to even think of telling on her I would be told Im trying to ruin his day with his mum, and my sister would hit me 10 times harder next time.

My oh so perfect sister who could never put a foot wrong. Everyones favourite child. Everyone always gave her attention, always such positive affirmations and I was told to shut up and sit in the corner. I was always the mistake, I was always told I was. My mother just reconfirms what my father said. She hasnt seen my sister since 2015 and I swear she would so much more prefer it was me she couldnt see anymore.

And dare I bring up my depression, anxiety or schizophrenia. God no. Im just moaning, its normal, I should just cope with it alone. Dont take the pills they give you, they'll make your head blow up, or even worse theyll make you fat. I swear thats all any of them care about is how they look, their stupid fucking reputations. It drives me insane. 

For nearly 20 years I have had to push down these feelings of depression, anxiety, not mention the things I hear or see. Not tell anyone I self harmed, or tried to kill myself. No no, because if anyone overheard me say it, how would that make her look? Its only now Im away from them all Im able to breathe a little. But really, is this fight even worth it? What am i even fighting for? I dont have anyone, no love or friends, just me. Why should I fight? What do I have worth staying for? One thing Ive learnt is depression doesnt go away, so I wont be fighting to have a clear head, or happy thoughts. 

Most people have someone to fight for. They fight for their partner, their best friend, their parents, their cat, their brother or sister, daughter, son. But I dont have anything. Everyone always gets sick of me, maybe I was born to simply die. Maybe thats my purpose? I always fuck up, no wonder nobody wants me here. Maybe lifes not for everyone.