Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Today, I sat around and slept the day away. I didn’t speak to a single soul. I relapsed again and fell back into old habits—the same ones that almost destroyed me a few months ago. I guess it’s true what they say: depression comes in stages, and right now, it’s hitting me pretty hard.

I know sitting here isn't helping me, but what else can I do? Most of my motivation to keep going has slipped away. I hate the person I’ve become and this boring, monotonous life. I’m fully aware that what I’m doing isn’t good for me, but the answer isn’t simple. Today, I slept for almost 15 hours. It’s gotten to the point where I’m forcing myself back to sleep with medication, just to escape the reality I’m stuck in.

This year has been rough, and it feels like no one really understands me. I’ve tried reaching out, but no one has any real answers, and it’s hard to tell if they even care. People say they care, but do they really? No one made a move to help me when I was at my worst. I’ve been seriously considering packing everything up and just leaving in the middle of the night. I’d love to be anywhere but here—anyone but the person I am right now.

Life feels like an endless struggle.

I started writing music again, but all I can seem to produce are broken, emo songs that no one will care about. I suppose it’s something, though. My photography has been gaining some traction on Twitter, and while that’s a small win, it still feels like I’m dragging everyone down with me. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe I don’t really exist in their lives anymore anyway.

Well, diary, I guess it’s time to go back to sleep, to see if I can sleep the pain away. Lately, I’ve just been lonely.