Distress

This piece of writing was during an extremely dark time I was having mentally, mostly focusing on my depression. It's really personal to me

After months and months of staring blankly at walls and talking to myself I've come to a conclusion that nothing is everything. After months of repeating the same words and sentences to myself over and over again in my head and pacing back and fourth, with my hands unsure of what to do and what not to do, I have found that nothing is everything because I am tired. Nothing is everything because I am scared. Nothing is everything because I am hurt. Because I am frustrated, I am angry, I am everything you want to get away from. Because I am the only kind of tired that sleep can't fix, and nothing is everything because I have lost control over this life that I've dared to call my own. This thing I've even dared to call a life. I am not living, only surviving and day after day I keep on adding up all of the reasons as to why I can't. Day after day I remember to say hello to my thoughts in the morning because they don't go away, I might as well be polite. I saw you yesterday I say. Why are you still here I say. For some reason I am their favorite head to stay in. Why. God, why. I say I need a break. They say that I am all they know and there is not such a thing. They say no. They love to say "Do it." I'm not sure why. They say that they belong here, and day after day I repeatedly think to myself "I can't do this any longer," but oh god who am I to think that choice is mine. Who am I to think I have any say in my happiness. Who am I to think I can have control. I've lost that long enough ago to know I am not getting it back. It's not mine anymore, because this sick thing we like to call depression has brought itself into my life without welcoming, and loving it has gotten me sick. I feel so sick. I don't want these happy pills. I don't want to be on suicide watch. I just want you to leave. I don't want you no more, I've never wanted you at all. And I am begging and pleading. Come on please give me a break I say. You don't understand I say. Because I am hopeless. Because I want to know what happy is, and I swear to god if I ever get to see the other side of this, it's something I will never take for granted. And Because I am bruised. This awful purple is fading into a deepened black and I feel it coming, it's coming on so strong, why can't I stop it. I am gasping for air. I just need a breath, I just need to breathe. Please help me. Please help me breathe.