What it feels like in my own words.

[BluEyeGirl27]

I need you to know you're not alone. I need you to know that you're not crazy. The depression. The anxiety. The desire to do nothing else but drink everything in sight. And eat the cravings that are oddly insatiable. You can't feel anything. And then suddenly you can't help but feel everything. You don't know wether to take uppers or downers. The roller coaster of emotions is exhausting. Almost as exhausted as you feel just having to get out of bed in the morning. But you can't say anything to anyone. They won't understand. Who could start to understand when you don't even understand. Sitting on your couch drinking a half a bottle. No a full bottle of wine a night. A day. You start at 11am now. You sit in the dark with a selection of knives next to you. Dragging them across your skin just to see which one is sharper. Which one cuts your skin with the least pressure applied. You still don't say anything. You hint at it. You hope against hope that someone notices. But they don't. They don't see the 5lbs you've put on to your previously healthy frame in the last month. They don't see the hormonal blemishes plaguing your once almost perfect skin. No one hears the voices in your head that argue with everything you used to believe was real. And good. And true. But you do. You hear them screaming so loudly you can't hear anything else. You wake up and think that today will be a good day. But then you think about the next glass of wine. And you try to fight it. But you can't. You tell yourself to stop eating. You're not hungry anymore. But you don't stop. You can't. With every minute that passes you hate yourself more and more. You hate that you can't control it. You can't control anything anymore. It's like being in a fog that just won't go away. You fight and you run and you try so hard to get away but all it does is exhaust you and then you're back to square one and you're no better for having tried than if you were to just give in to it. The haze is lifting. You know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. But it's a long tunnel and you've never done this before and you're scared. You're scared that you're not you anymore. That you've become someone else. Someone that you don't recognize. Someone who struggles with things like alcohol and depression and bipolar and anxiety. Someone who you used to look at and think you poor thing. You used to wonder how people ever got so messed up. How people ever really needed therapists and psychiatrists and drugs to make them feel normal. You used to think you knew what normal felt like. Now you wish for normal. You don't pray but somehow you'll pray for this. Like it will make a difference. It hasn't. Yet. But you don't know what else to do. You blame yourself. If only you had known. Maybe you could have done something differently. It's such a deep dark hole you're in. How will you ever get out you wonder. And so you write down your feelings and hope that maybe someone else will read them and they'll understand. But they won't. They can try. Maybe they even feel a few of the same emotions that you're talking about. But they'll never know the personal hell you're in. You don't wonder how people end it anymore. It's dark to say. There are so many ways you could have done it by now. You have come as close to it as you think a person can come without actually going there. Going into the deepest darkest hole that there is. The kind of place people don't come back out of. You want to step out of the darkness and into the light. To feel the sun on your skin again. You remember that feeling for a moment and it gives you hope. You know what hope means now. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. A big terrifying life altering earth shattering soul crushing heart breaking blessing in disguise. You might not be you anymore but somehow you're still here. And you still have some fight left in you. And that's all there really is now.

[IncorrigibleMinx]

I may not understand your personal hell, but you gave my personal hell a voice for a moment. Thank you.