I can feel the depression creeping. It’s that feeling in the earliest hours of the morning and the latest ones of the night, in that lonely silence it feels like I’m slowly fading, gradually drowning, sinking into the hopelessness. I know I won’t feel awake when I wake up tomorrow. I know I’ll waste the day in a corner reading realities that sometimes soothe my aching heart and make me feel the slightest flutter in my hollow chest or trigger pain that leaves my eyes bleeding, all just to remember I’m alive.

Sometimes I think about death, its finality, its peace. The fact that it happens once and then there’s silence, not like the way I slowly die each day.

I think I’m ready for the end, cause most days I don’t have it in me to keep fighting this way.