I came to the realization over the past couple days that I’ve been dead for over a decade. I have no quality of life. And I haven’t had a decent quality of life for a very, very long time.
Life is more than living on a multitude of pills and just getting by. I’m not even getting by. I’ve given up. I only take what I need to take and swallow what I need to swallow if they are next to my bed. I make no other effort because I’m gone and have been. This isn’t a sign of my own weakness. It just is what it is.
Since junior high school I’ve had these bouts of depression mixed with anxiety. I’d come out of it for a little bit. Short periods of time. Maybe a year. Then become a shut-in. Weeks would go by. Months. Sometimes years- only leaving for…
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