I look around and nothing makes sense. My hands shake and I feel like a complete emotional wreck. I’m terrified to ask for help but I know I should. Deep down I know if depression hits this hard again I wouldn’t be alive to ask for help, but I am terrified to be exposed. I keep reminding myself it’ll be okay, I need to conquer my fears, do what’s right. I don’t want to die, but I am afraid I will because every day I move a step closer, how many more steps till one day I get there and bleed to death? I want my life back on track and I can’t do it without help, I can’t go on, my life’s spinning out of control and I am afraid of myself.
All the crying and the wet tissue papers on my side may make me feel a little better, but I know this isn’t a long term solution. Sleeping the entire day too would be a temporary solution, because the moment I would wake up I’ll go down that road and it’ll lead me to nothing but ending my life. This is time, the now-or-never kinda moment. Tomorrow I go see a therapist. I’m on my own and that’s how it will be, today, tomorrow, every month, year, for a lifetime… I am on my own and I am alone but I am still holding on my will to live and it is taking everything I have to stand up and admit, ‘’yes, I need help.’’ It took me over 3 years but it’s still not too late, and I know it will be if I hold back today. Am I afraid? Yes. Am I terrified? Hell yes, but what do I got to lose by exposing myself to a complete stranger?