Scarleteen

Lately I've been at a really tough point in my life. My only friend in college dropped out and moved out of our apartment, and I feel very isolated. The people around me, they're all in their own relationships--their own worlds. I feel stupid for asking to hang out or for help, they're always busy and I can tell I am not their main priority. I was already struggling with motivation for school, but now I just can't get myself to go anywhere at all. And it isn't like I'm being lazy or just avoiding assignments, but I genuinely cannot get myself out of bed. I would doom scroll for hours on end, waking up at 9 am, finding the courage to get up and go to the bathroom at 2 pm. I tried to eliminate the issue of the phone, making sure I am able to spend some time simply sitting up in bed after waking up, spending time in my head before grabbing the phone. I stayed in bed even longer. I woke up at 9, got up at 5 pm. The idea of doing even my most favorite things, eating a sweet treat or watching my favorite show--these things are not enough to get me going. I barely eat at all, actually, 1 meal a day if I am lucky--but lately I have been aiming for 2 small ones. I just don't wanna be here. I've always dealt with shitty mental health, and I always convinced myself that it was going to be better, because it simply had to. But now I am 20 years old, and I have never felt this disappointed in myself. I feel so stupid for convincing myself that I could be normal or fulfilled. I always knew, because of my identity, I would end up alone, so I wanted to at least make this situation a point of..accepting my fate. I can't keep a friend for the life of me, either they ghost me for a boyfriend or I am just not enough to keep them interested. I feel like such a burden. I've always tried to remember the things around me that I wish to stay alive for, but now it feels like an additional reason that I shouldn't be here. I always thought of my cats, but I know damn well they would be better off with someone who wasn't too depressed to play with them or cuddle with them. I would think of my writing or my art, but now I feel like these stories are the kind that don't need to see the world if it means I can be relieved of the world's pain. I have been sobbing for the past few days, praying to gods I have never once acknowledged as an agnostic--begging for signs to confirm that I simply haven't tried hard enough, and can still recover from my mental illnesses. I have made offerings, altars, all sort of bullshit that has gone nowhere. I am just losing hope, and the only thing I can do to stay alive throughout these days, is partake in horrible things. I've talked about this before, but it wasn't nearly this bad. I talked about how penetration and mature films are something that do not necessarily arouse me, but something I force myself to pursue anyway, in hopes that it'll turn me normal. I keep hurting myself, every day I engage in these sexual acts knowing I am not enjoying them after the initial 10ish minutes of horniness, knowing that I wish to stop after that--and then I proceed not to. I catch myself saying things along the lines of "I just want to feel what everyone else gets to feel" and "why can't I have this too?" Normally, masturbation was a small itch to scratch type activity, once every 2 weeks maybe I'd consider it to just get it out of the way, but now it is becoming something that I feel like I have to do. Before I resorted to this, I had been relapsing into another form of self harm (cutting), not quite to a dangerous point, but it was extremely excessive. The more I talk to my psychiatrist, the more I feel as though I am only grasping onto my remaining sanity because of the 6 pills I have to swallow every day. I can't get myself to talk about any of this because I feel so ashamed, and so stupid. Why am I so violent with myself? I had been so comfortable with my sexuality for so long, but now I am realizing just how much of a burden every part of me is--and I am back to wishing I was born with what was expected from me. I have always been the least favorite child, the one who can't offer grandchildren. The one who chose the most risky career, the one who got into the "lesser" school--the one who is "weak" and shunned for their mental health. I bring this up because, I feel it is relevant to my previous point--the fact I just have no one to turn to. I was trying so hard. I would leave carefully packaged goody bags by my neighbors doors for Valentines day, introducing myself to everyone and dolling myself up every morning so I could look more presentable. And nothing has worked. No one likes me. And now going outside to simply toss out the trash is an anxiety inducing activity, because I hate the idea of being seen or acknowledged now. I want to hide in my apartment forever, hoarding the last of my snacks like it's an apocalypse, and eventually just die out in my sleep if the world can heed that prayer. And the worst part is, is that no one would know if I was gone. My health has never been good, and the other day, this day where I was still trying? I half-passed out in the middle of cooking, deliriously texting my friends for support, only to receive no response. I have no family. No friends. I have no capability of changing that, and instead of accepting that I am still writing on forums hoping that some kind strangers on the internet will pity me, if not the people around me. And that is the one thing I despise the most about this situaton. I still have hope. Even though just about everything is convincing me not to. It is slightest bit of "maybe" that possesses me at 7 pm when I finally put together "breakfast."

I'm so, so sorry to hear that you've been feeling like this. This is a really rough place to be.

Before I say anything else, I have a question: it sounds like you have a prescribing psychiatrist, but do you also have a therapist you can actually talk to on a regular basis? So much of this sounds like you are in a deep depression, but also like you're self-harming in a couple different ways, needing help with not just your feelings, but your behaviours. That's usually not stuff a prescribing psychiatrist -- especially if you don't see them very regularly -- can help much with, but are things a therapist you see and talk to on a regular basis can. <3