idfk actually
honestly i don't fucking know. i don't know. i don't know if i have depression. how the hell am i supposed to know? so what if i take a questionnaire, i might just be answering just to get attention. i dont know. i doubt it sometimes.
i don't know because my friends would never guess, i try my best to make everyone happy, but im done. it's exhausting. just because i get good grades, doesn't mean im "set" or whatever the fuck they sell you. i have no passion in life. i want to rot in my room. every passion i have had is gone. i don't any talents. i can barely get myself to do things like clean my room.
and im so fucking ugly. wide, bulbous nose, square jaw, man body with a tummy that just doesn't go. its not "cute" when im shy because i look like a pervert. i might be one too. who knows.
no amount of sleep fufills me. hell, i would stay in bed a fucking day if i could
and honestly, the only reason i haven't killed myself yet is because i think of my mom. i imagine her without me and i can't help but feel so guilty. she spent so much time to raise a defect that can't do shit. my pain will only go to her, but how much more longer should i have to suffer? dragging this weight is just too heavy, so why not just cut it off? i want to be free but i feel so so guilty.
it's not a "i have so much to live for" moment because i dont. i have no future, no looks. no chance at love. i can't open up to anyone because i have no true friends that i trust enough and i know my family won't listen to me. therapy is too expensive and i feel like im making this all up and no one will believe me. saying "it gets better!" doesn't mean shit. maybe im just doing this because im so depraved of attention i dont know. i don't know.