This year started off different than all the other years prior, I was finally…okay? But of course that didn’t last long since I met him. He changed my life, and not for the better. He ruined me, killed me, drained me til my last drop. Now I'm here, alone, with no one to turn to, no one to love. He blamed me, made me feel horrible about myself, like I wasn’t good enough, like I hurt him. Sure, maybe I did some things I probably shouldn’t have, but it was all for the right reasons. He led me to it, he led me to hating him, to hating myself even more, to hating love, the world, people, everything. Yeah, it wasn’t all his fault, but he was the main contributor. Irritable, mean, disgusting, lazy, nothing, those are the words I would use to describe me now. I’m a nobody, no one else will love me, I should’ve taken the hate, the disrespect, less than bare minimum, because then I would have someone. At least I would have had someone. Music. That's my only escape, even then I can’t forget my horrible life. I tried hobbies, didn’t work, tried moving on, didn’t work. Maybe I just deserve to have a bad life, to be miserable, I’m not quite sure on what I did to deserve this, when I was a kid all I did was love others, to make them feel included, to help them, of course I didn’t receive the same treatment, I was just…there. Invisible sometimes, too visible other times. I try to be happy, for others, because they are struggling and they don’t need me, a burden, a chore, or another person to care about. They don’t need my struggles along with theirs, so I’ll carry them, I’ll try to help, because at least they feel better. So what? So what if I’m on the verge of tears on the other side of the screen? So what if I’m about to end my life, hurting myself? So what? Their problems are more important, I mean, a breakup is a big deal, you have to talk about it right? That's all i ever did, but then again i left time for others to talk about themselves. Don’t ask me how i’m doing, i won’t ever tell the truth, I’ll lie like every other time, focus on yourself, don’t worry about trying to help me. I can’t be helped, I can't be fixed. I’m a waste of your time, and a waste of space. Tell me about your problems, watch how I know what to say, watch how I comfort you with giving the right advice. But don’t listen, because what do I know? I’m only telling others what I want to hear. What I longed to hear, but when someone tries to help, like my parents or my old therapist, I shut them down, I block their words from entering my ears, I push them away, like I do with everyone. I push and I pull, I want comfort so I pull, but I push away when I have it. I hate it, I hate feeling this way, vulnerable, like I’m just a regular teenager struggling like everyone else, but I want them to see, I’m not like others, this is bad. It's really, really bad. “Everyone struggles, everyone has anxiety, everyone feels the EXACT same as you” no, they don’t. Sure some might, but it’s hard to find someone who's struggling like me, they don’t understand it. How bad my depression is, they think it’s just something easily cured, they say that they’ve gone through this, but if they have the same way I am, then why can’t they see?? Why can’t they see I'm so close to saying goodbye, to leaving, to dump everything behind because what's the point? I’m not going anywhere in the future, I’m useless, I'm horrible. Maybe this is my goodbye letter, maybe it’s something I’ll come across in the future, seeing how dramatic I was, or how traumatizing this is. Maybe I’ll be better, but I’ve been like this for years, and It’s only getting worse. How long until I hit absolute rock bottom? Have I hit it already? In October-November, now? Or is it just the inevitable coming. Waiting?