I feel depressed. Anxious and unmotivated, but depressed. I want to help people but after this, I think I’m ‘too close’ to it. The way I feel is something I don’t think I could handle again; I’m too close. I keep trying to look for the good in life; why we should stick around…but I’m struggling to find a compelling reason why. There’s a difference between appreciating the things in life, and having a will and a purpose to live. As I sit here, I can’t think of one. I don’t want to suffer. But there’s nothing I can do. I keep wondering ‘how’ and ‘why’ did I pull through? Why me? And I’m not looking for pity. I don’t feel sorry for myself, only sorry that it was me that pulled through and not some other kid.

I don’t have the courage or determination to ever try that again. And maybe that’s also fear. Does that mean I want to get better? Probably. I’m afraid of never finding happiness. How can I help others if I can’t even help myself? Do I live just to avoid inconveniencing others? Surely I’ve accomplished nothing worthwhile. Just another day. 

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