A mutation.

I am sad for no reason at all.

Or maybe there is a reason. Or maybe there are many reasons contributing to this overwhelming sadness that I am experiencing right now. This despair that I feel at around the same time every night. Even though I can sense the sadness looming, creeping closer to the centre of my mind, I am still unable to cope with the consequences. The way that I am not able to summon the energy to propel words out of my mouth. The mouth that is usually moving so quickly, words speeding out of my mouth so easily. Yet now I am rendered speechless. And if I am required to talk, the effort that is required is unbearable.

I am finding it difficult to even brush my fingers over the laptop keys. To press down on the letters that are formulating these words right this second. How strange that 26 letters make up entire languages. How strange that there are over 7 billion different faces on the planet, over 7 billion different combinations of DNA. Considering this, how silly of me to ever consider that i could possibly be significant. I am so insignificant, a tiny dot on a planet holding millions. How could I ever make a difference? if I was to swallow a large number of pills right now and leave the world, time would not stop. the world would not stop tilting on its axis. How foolish of us to believe we hold some significant importance, that we are irreplaceable. How easily replaced we really are. We are not the be all and end all, as we falsely believe. People find new friends, new lovers; enhanced versions of ourselves. How shameful to believe that I could possibly hold any special significance to any other human being.

Psychologists state that attachments are necessary for basic functioning. As humans, we are designed to be social creatures, to form attachments and bonds with other humans. We are not solitary animals, mental health issues are often linked with poor attachments or a lack of attachments. Yet, right at this moment, I feel that attachments are not having a good effect on me personally. Even the attachments that I deem to be special to me, for attachments lead to intense envy and self-doubt for me. How could anyone possibly want to be friends with me? What qualities of mine could possibly be deemed desirable? How am I ever going to match up to those I consider my best and closest friends? I will never be the one who stands out in a good way, the one who everyone loves so easily. I am a mutation, a side effect. I was not made for this world, I am an accident. A wrong sequence of amino acids, of genetic material. For why should someone like me exist?

I am aware that it is highly likely that I will leave this world of my own accord. I will, one day, intentionally take my life. Maybe by swallowing the pills that scream at me to ingest them, by tying the belt that beckons me around my neck, by jumping in a vast array of water and weighing myself down way beneath the surface, by slicing the flesh of my wrist with a sharp knife and watching the blood ooze from my body in streams. A world of possibilities, yet the only possibilities that I can see clearly are the ways in which I can depart from this cruel world. I don’t know when this day will be, but I feel that I will know when I awaken that day.

I’m sorry, for those who care about me. I care about you all so much, and it’s tearing me apart.

I have tried everything.

I am trapped and I am dying. Maybe not physically, but I am decaying psychologically. How do people expect me to live like this? The pain is becoming unbearable, yet it is not visible to those around me. Our sensitive human eyes can not detect emotional pain easily, as we can a broken limb. My mind is broken, yet there is no visible proof. How do I explain this to those who do not understand?

Why must my own mind betray me, and steal every essence of myself as well as every ounce of love for life that I possess?

Depression, release your grip. I beg of you.


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