Then * Now

28.02.06/3:49 pm

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This is crippling me. The depression, is so bad, I am choking, nose and mouth clogged with thick black smoke. Clawing the walls with blunt bitten down nails, I cannot see or hear the outside. The only way out seems to be down the rabbit hole, down, down and away.

I need to take my prozac, I�m fallen behind again. I feel so tempted to just take the whole lot. I just want to sleep forever.

I feel guilty for avoiding everyone, for hiding on messenger and not talking to my friends, but I just can�t manage it. Typing this is a struggle because I don�t even want to think, and have to leave yet another part of myself on this page.

I made it into college today, and yet only lasted an hour. I didn�t even get to any of my lessons. After managing to walk up the hill and catch the bus I thought I was safe, that I could do it, but it just got worse. I can�t be seen, I feel so very anxious, paranoid, like I�m shot up on screen to everyone around me, a source for which to scrutinise and insult. I am spilling out all over the place. Terrified of catching attention, I sat in the toilets eating. Binging on the floor in a closed cubicle, painfully listening to people laughing and talking amongst themselves beyond the window. The image in itself is disgusting. Lonely, desperate, awful, proving just how low I regard myself. I truly am gone. Completely gone.

On the way home I needed to cry, I could feel it waiting behind my eyes. To feel tears upon my cheek or against my lip would be a relief, but I was not allowed that. I can�t remember the last time. I am so cold inside. I do not feel alive.

Whenever I am in public and listening to my I Pod, I always have to make sure that the sound is down low enough so that no one else can hear the music. I am scared of disturbing them, of making a difference, intruding. I shouldn�t be here.

Everyone else is so pretty, because they�re not me.

Only a few months to go until exams, and it is all crumbling apart. I just want to stop and refuse, become as sick and thin as I possibly can, indulge this disorder to the maximum. If it weren�t for others around me then I would. I can imagine watching the world float by while fading, slowly, to dust, to dirt.

I don�t understand how people can do it, how they cope everyday. Surely what I am feeling is not normal? A part of me constantly whispers the doubt that I am just overdramatic, selfish, and ridiculous. I am sorry.