Gone

These times it's nothing and it's black and it's tears and one more step and I wouldn't be here at all. I can't think, my usually eloquent brain is shut down. There's noise and there are people and they're all around and don't go away. The noise stops what little coherence my thoughts had. I can use pretty words but they don't give me pretty thoughts.

I'm worthless, useless, not deserving the space I take up. That's what goes through my head when it's not just emptiness and whatever emotion evokes all the crying. Tears and tears until the tears just stop but my face is still screwed up.

I take the medicine and it closes down the thinking and it makes me eat and gain weight until I'm an empty, fat, undesirable nothingness of heaviness and ponderance and thoughtlessness. I've lost my memory, I've lost myself and my past.

This doesn't work. This isn't working. I can't do this much more. The only thing keeping me here is knowing that my suicide would be bad for my kids. It doesn't stop me going to sleep every night praying I just won't wake up, something will happen, some combination of medicines will accidentally interact, some heartbeat just won't come, breath will just stop. 

Depression isn't a bunch of sad thoughts. It hurts in a way that isn't like other hurts. I would do anything to make this hurt stop and if the only way it stops is death I wish for that but I know I can't bring it because, yeah, the kids.

It's dark and it's black and it's garbage and it's me in where I am. Negative thoughts where there are thoughts at all and mostly just animal moans in my thoughts and the voices reminding me how much this hurts and how much this isn't worth the time it takes and the space I take up. Mixed up words and an empty head except where it's the depression holding on.