Here is an entry I wrote in my diary in 2008 (aged 18), whilst going through a bad spell of depression.
I’m so tired that I have to type as opposed to writing. I went to college for the first time in six or seven days today. I didn’t make it in until gone 1pm, but at least I pulled myself back into reality. I wish that it could have been as it used to be when I would slip into lapses of depression: I would dread going in but my worst fears would never surface, sixth form days always made me feel better. Today, however, I have reached my breaking point. A friend brought me some of his over-the-counter strong sleeping pills last night and I took them with renewed faith. Still I did not sleep until the early hours, so I am in a bubble again.
Today I feel like there is no escape. I’m so behind with work and unable to do much about it whilst I feel so low and drained, and I fear that things are going to end up as they did last year- I’ll drop two of my subjects and take two to lighten the load. I feel uninterested in the world, in my relationships, in food, in people, in life. I contemplated suicide all day Monday and Tuesday. In the past I couldn’t imagine getting to a point of such desperation that I believed I would be crazy enough to top myself. But now? I am not at all far from that point. The little hope I have left is keeping me breathing, but if I slip much further and lose that hope- well, that will be it.
I thought that I was far too lonely and angry at myself to think about love, but I’m beginning to think that love will rescue me. I am rapidly losing every element of myself which made me lovable, and so I am frightened that no one will want to love me. I mean, what have I actually got to say for myself in terms of ‘love’ up until now? The four people I’ve been with had little respect for me, let alone feelings of love. They were frivolous and empty. I have had one ‘relationship’ which would actually qualify as its own title. The rest of my relationships with guys have either been short and far from serious or just ‘no strings attached.’
Perhaps I’m just not worth more than that.
[Featured image is of me during the year that I wrote this diary entry]