Desperately trying to find a reason to live again; the reasons I had just feel like they’re going down the drain but I am trying so hard to hold onto them. I’m using every last drop of energy I have in me to remind myself of the reasons why I enjoyed doing the things that keep me living but that list itself is disappearing and I no longer am certain about the reasons why.
The overwhelming urge is returning. Every minute I’m having to hold back the tears that are forcing themselves out of my ducts. The voice is my head constantly reminding me of who I am really am, how I am not good enough, how my skills are and never will be good enough – knocking me back to the place I should be: at the bottom of the chain.
I had so many ideas, so my things I wanted to pursue but now it’s become a question of why should I even bother? I can’t remember why I loved doing it in the first place. It’s making me feel more isolated, more outcast, than the same experience a year ago. Last year, it felt like home; this year, it feels like an elite clique I am trying to be part of but can’t and shouldn’t be.
I’m not lying when I say this was the main reason for me to live, the main reason that stopped me from taking me life all those months ago. But now, I feel like there’s no point because it was my source of happiness and now I’m not sure anymore. Was I being mislead? Or lead on? Are people avoiding telling me because they want to be ‘nice’?