It's no secret that I've been battling severe depression since I was a teenager. I know if I could kill myself, and if I knew with complete certainty I would succeed, I would do it.

But Seth, you don't seem as depressed anymore, we just talked yesterday.

I am still severely depressed. I'm suffering. I'm suffering so fucking much. But I have to keep it together. Even a little fucking bit so I can afford continue paying rent.

Why does rent even matter if you want to die?

I don't want my husband and room mate to suffer.

Wouldn't they suffer way more if you killed yourself?

Yes. But like all things, time heals wounds. It'll take a while, but things will slowly return to when I wasn't around. People keep telling me that I'll miss all the good things in future if I kill myself. I don't care about making new memories or missing out on potentially positive things. If I'm dead, I won't miss any of it. It'll all finally be over. The suffering. The voices. The hallucinations. The failed medications. My failing physical health. Doctor after doctor. Therapist over therapist. Failing failing failing.

I've been giving away my pets. I can barely take care of myself. I can't neglect my animals too. I want them to have the best life can give them, and that just isn't me. They used to be my anchors, but now I'm too exhausted to even interact with them.

Creating art wasn't been the same since I started taking psychiatric meds. Doctors tell me they've never heard bipolar medications stifling creativity. A Google search will tell you it can and does. I love to create works for people to enjoy. Works to vent. But I just don't have the same drive I used to when I was off my medication. The same flow of ideas and motivation are all but gone now.

I've learned what happens when people irl find out you're suicidal. They have you committed. I've been committed multiple times. It made me worse. So much worse.
I was drugged.
I was assaulted.
I was tortured.
And all I learned were ways to better hide my illness.


Yes. I love my husband, my cat, some of my family, and my friends. They're really all I have to hold onto right now. But slowly as I fall apart, I'm even losing my connection them. I just feel like if I push everyone away, it'll hurt them less later. It sounds selfish. It is selfish. I can't escape it.


When leaving the house, it's so much easier to just smile, have casual conversation, and then go back into isolation again. If I interact with you, please be patient with me. I'm a social and physical wreck, but I'm trying to reach out and have some semblance of normalcy to my life.



I've never felt as hopeless as I do right now.
When after everything is said and done. I'm just so very tired and I don't want to fight anymore.