Where The Hell Are My Friends


This blog has gone through many changes within the past three years but the one thing that hasn’t lost its consistency are the knots in my stomach. I know I haven’t written in a while. In fact, I think it was on purpose because I was afraid of what I would write. It hasn’t been so great over here lately, but I’m trying…I really am. But it’s just so hard when you wake up every morning wondering what your purpose is and if you even deserve a life in the first place since some think that I’m wasting it being sad…as if it’s a fucking choice.

There are people who say they’re there for you, but their one word answers cut you inside and all you’re left to do is go your own way. There are the ones who want to fix you. There are the ones who undermine your pain asking you what you could possibly be depressed about. There are the ones who try to make you feel like your pain is wrong and they’ll do everything in their power to turn all of it around to make you look like a horrible person. Then there are the ones who love you so much that just the mere thought of mentioning how you wish you were never even born cuts you inside as you imagine their reactions.

I’m starting to hate my job and that is the one thing I never wanted to happen. I’m sick of feeling like what I do isn’t enough. I’m sick of feeling like everyone wants something from me yet when I need help, the crickets are fucking deafening.

One thing is for sure: the only way to find out who your true friends are is by going through a bout of depression. The silence is deafening and disappearing never looked more appealing.

If I could find one person who isn’t a coward in this world, that would be great.

“No one cares if I stay”


2 thoughts on “Where The Hell Are My Friends

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