When You're Scared to Live With Depression, but Not Afraid to Die

I think about dying, but I don’t want to die. See, the truth is, I want to live. I want to escape. A lot of people fear death, but death’s the ugly truth. As life is an ugly disguise. I feel trapped. Just living. Just breathing. Just waiting, but for what?

It’s like the walls are caving in around me, or I’m 10-feet underwater. Yet I can hear people around me laughing. Everything is muffled, but the thoughts run through my mind. It’s like pots and pans banging in my ears. A continuous headache that I tell myself over and over will leave. Nothing bad lasts forever, right?

No matter how fast I run or how far I travel,  I’m hunted down by these thoughts. I feel like a bother most days. I think the world could do without me, but I don’t want to die. In fact, I want to live. To be free. I want to look up to the sky and not just the ground. I’m tired of feeling everything at once one day, and nothing at all the next.

I wish I could explain my thoughts, but how do I explain something I don’t understand myself? Every day is a battle between who I am and who I want to be. Many days, the only accomplishment I feel is getting out of bed. I do so much in a day, but why do I feel it’s never enough? Why am I never enough?

Not pretty enough, not skinny enough, not smart enough, not nice enough, just not enough. I hold a lot in because I know I’m strong. Always there for others because I know what it is like to be alone. Yet, it seems no one realizes … or at least seems like no one cares. I’m being stalked, hunted down by these shadows.

I think about what it would be like if I wasn’t here. Who would care and who wouldn’t mind. I think about how life would be so much different. I think about how strong I am. I don’t want to die, I just want to kill the voices in my head. The shadows that stalk my every move and know all my insecurities.

I think about dying, but no, I don’t want to die.