Time doesn’t heal

I haven’t blogged for a long time, partly because I didn’t have time and partly because my words wouldn’t flow. It wasn’t writers blog exactly. It was an emotional and mental stunting. And now the dam has broken and I have nothing but words pouring out and no vessel to fill them with. And so I have returned here with my unimportant life story.

Depression has obviously been my lifelong friend, but there were periods of time where it was fed up with me not biting the dust and left me be. This is not one or those times. It is like an insistent child, a hungry toddler that wails from hunger and will not stop crying until it is fed. The only food that it accepts is my self hate, my hopelessness, my lack of success in life, my non-existent and failing relationships. But what happens when there is nothing left to feed it with? What happens when all there is is an empty hollow pit and nothing but darkness fills it? Well, in my case, I wish for it to end. I wish for a permanent end to my torment. I wish, for the millionth time, that I never existed.

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