What’s the point?

Every time I think I’m doing better, I start to feel that the slow march of doom creeping in again. Everything feels dark just when I thought I was finally climbing out of this hole, and all I can think of is that I’m going to die. I just wish the suffering would end. There is nothing but dread.

Why take my meds? They’re making me worse and I don’t even need them. I think I somehow accidentally lied to my psychiatrist and myself. There’s nothing wrong with me except that I am too sad and pathetic to get through this.

I don’t want to rely on medication to just survive. I don’t want to have to take all these fucking pills every day just to stop myself from feeling even worse than I do now.

I thought I was getting better but now I can feel my depression getting worse again. It hasn’t even been a week since I thought I got out.

This is endless. Nothing brings me joy lately. I can’t create or do the things I’m passionate about. I don’t even feel passion lately.

I just want to scream. And cry. But I can’t do anything. I can’t take this.