Nothing is wrong.
I'm not worried about anything.
Depression didn't even feel that bad today.
But I was EXHAUSTED.
Like so far beyond exhausted that it HURT.
Hurt to be awake.
Hurt to breathe.
Hurt to move.
It just simply hurt to be alive.
And then you just keep going.
People say that those who commit suicide take the easy way out. I'm not saying they are wrong, but they don't understand the daily battle that those people fought to simply get out of bed.
To get dressed.
To walk out of the door.
They can't imagine the act of laying on a shower floor crying because they have to leave the house.
It is truly a struggle just to live. When you really would rather not.
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