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my name is Kaityn, I Am 19 and almost 20 years old and have been experiencing severe depressive symptoms and my family and my very close sister don't even want to be around me and does not help support me or attempt to help me feel better which hurts more. Anyways how I vent is through writing and descriptive text. So this is my description of depression and what I feel like 24/7.
There's beautiful horror in this hell in my mind. It consumes everything like a quiet blue flame, the hottest most painful flame. Spreading like a malignant pathogen all over your body it consumes you heart, soul, and mind for you to question your own sanity and if life is worth living any longer. It consumes you until you're nothing but a ball of sobs and tears that absolutely no one could care love or understand anymore. Help please somebody anybody help me, the sobs that grew from tears of sadness to tears of utter shame hatred and shear hopelessness. It makes you wonder, if you died, who would miss you? Who really loved you all along? Would you be able to see them? To feel if they care to feel their tears on your old soul? I ponder about knowing more and more every waking minute until that's who I am. Run run run I say however silly me I cannot escape from my thoughts and my own emotions. The people closest to you hurt the most and act as if they care the least. Who do you call? Who can you call that really knows and understands you? That won't describe you as a burden or a nuisance of life rather than a troubled human being? The thought that somebody could actually care about you instead of the sharp knife of the short life is the upmost rewarding gift that can be sent. You need a hero, you're the hero and used to be the hero. You need a hero to save your life, save your life from yourself. The physical chills you get, the sick stomach sensation that makes you want to die, all from feeling cold and empty on the inside. The looks the words of simplicity and melancholy when your lovely soul mates in life break you to say "suck it up, you have no reason to be sad." The worst most gut wrenching command, "stop" a simple one syllabled word can shatter you. How many tears may ducts produce? Is there ever an end? Metaphorically and physically speaking. What are you supposed to resort to when your sweet face is swollen and plush from the sting of fresh tears at 2,3,4, or even 5 in the morning? It's just you in a dark cold room, you alone with your devious and evil thoughts and conjurings? How do you shut it off or down? You feel trapped confused overwhelmed guilty far from loved like a burden or a stressor to the ones who are supposed to be your trees, walls, or other metaphors of support. It's the worst feeling ever, it's just a slow flame that burns and burns everything inside of you slowly and painfully, depression.
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