Since my last “note,” I’ve not been writing as much, and I’ve definitely gone through a regression with this depression. I’m almost back at square one – exactly what I was running away from. This isn’t a note like the others; this is just to explain why there will be an indefinite hiatus of notes in the future. The last month and a half has become quite a dozy for me, and I am now finally feeling the need to talk about it.

I no longer feel strong positive or negative emotion. With anything. An example would be: Before, when a new album was coming out soon, I’d get excited and wouldn’t be able to wait for the release date; now I have no idea when albums are coming out, and I’m not surprised when an awesome band comes out with a new album. This is just one of many examples of my loss of emotion.

I want to… not be here. Whenever this spiritual figure wants to come and take me away, I openly accept the welcoming it’s offering. People in school will act tough by faking going to hit me (woo, real tough guys here…) – I used to flinch at the sight of a fist coming my way, nowadays, I don’t even blink. I’m hoping someone in school will build up enough hate towards me in order to actually take me out. Every time I cross a road and see a vehicle approaching me at a stop sign, I wish it would just keep going. And up until just a few days ago, I’ve always feared the thought of killing myself – I no longer find fear in suicide. I still believe it’s foolish, spiteful, unnecessary, and dumb. But it feels so worth it now, to just be done and over with – no more anything. I don’t want to wait for the ever-so-promising “it’ll get better,” I’ve been told, I just want to be done completely. What has happened thus far has and will scar me for the entirety of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see happier days, even if the greatest thing I could imagine would happen.

No emotions. Cool, right? I don’t exactly enjoy, or hate this. When another traumatic even decides to come my way, I won’t have to deal with the pain and suffering it presents itself with. On the other side, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love my daughter like I would if I’d not be in this depression. Not being able to love someone like you should is a curse. Another thing is that I can’t connect with people as well, when people are telling me positive or negative stories, I don’t know how to respond. I don’t feel excitement, I don’t feel bad for them. I just… – nothing.

“Killing yourself is selfish.” Hell yes it is, I’m very well intelligent enough to know that, thanks. But you need to understand this: I’m a selfless person; I’ve given far more into this world than I have ever been returned. I’m not saying that my relationship with the world and society needs to find equilibrium, I’m only stating that it would be nice if someone would appreciate the things I do out of the goodness is my heart. I only have myself to thank for what I do for other people. Killing myself seems, at this point, like a way to get final thanks from myself, and maybe others as well. Along with this, I’m NOT saying that I’m not getting enough attention. Attention is the last thing I could care about. I’m simply stating that I do many things without expecting appreciation, but not once has anyone ever thanked me for what I’ve done.

Whether you believe me or not, I deal with so many more problems than other people my age. I am constantly being back-stabbed, and slandered behind my back. I deal with financial instability on a daily basis. I am a father. I am a full time student. I have absolutely no more time to do the things I enjoy in life. Every day is becoming school, work, chores, sleep, repeat. On top of this busy schedule, I am still trying to deal with my personal problems: this depression, anxiety, my overall well-being. I’m on my final limb, I’m being pushed to the point where killing myself feels right.

Admittedly, yes. I would be leaving my first-born daughter alone – fatherless. My thoughts on this subject are still being dealt with. What I’ve come up with so far is: Alexa is becoming me. She’s learning the same as I do. She’s acting like I do. As much as I love seeing her see me as her role-model, I feel as though I am a monster. I don’t want to see my daughter becoming the same monster as me. I know I’d be an unimaginable loss for her, forever, and I should probably hate myself for even considering the thought of suicide. I can only hope that she would be able to find another, better, fatherly image in my place.

Some people would say that – what I consider to be basic knowledge – is a gift. I understand a lot more about human connections and can almost predict the future of some people, given some very basic information about them. Along with this, I’ve noticed that I am also given the “gift,” to be able to read people. I hate this. People can try to hold how they’re feeling in, and I can see straight through the lies they put up as their barrier… Uniquely, I have also been given the gift to produce my own emotions. There are very few times I will not be able to control what I feel. I use my pretend emotions as a barrier to keep the real me away from society. Not to keep society out. This is not a gift I possess. It’s a curse.

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Since the last note came out, things quickly began running downhill. Nameless, a girlfriend broke up with me. My self-motivation was detrimentally impacted. I was amazed at how it all happened. I tried finding happiness elsewhere; I began drinking and resorted to other methods of drugs. I would stay up all night just wishing I would rot. I gained friends for the wrong reasons, and I truly let the handle I had on life slip. I became that exact person I hate so much: that fucker that goes under the radar and ruins friendships/relationships. This lead into building self-pity – I felt horrible for what I was doing, and I still continued to do it. Friends decided that going being my back and trying to cover up what had happened with lies was the right decision. I exploded, and began threatening their future plans. I made it clear to them that we are no longer friends, and that I hate them. School became a hassle and I was slowing down on getting assignments done. I hit the ultimate low, again. Then I began searching for help, I tried telling my parents what was going on, this only seemed to add more confusion in my life. I tried letting my co-workers in on what was going on, this slightly helped, but not as much as I need. I tried telling the person I believed might actually do something for me… I believe, for the most part, I was ignored, this person didn’t care that I was -again- on the verge of going absolutely insane. Instead, this person was rushed, and just wanted to hear what I had to say, then never say anything about it again. I’m helpless.

Lately I’ve finally come to terms with what I am: Insatiable. Nothing I do, and nothing anyone else can do will ever replace my happiness. I feel like over a million tons are bearing down on my shoulders, and I’ve already hit the floor. If I were given everything I wanted at this moment, I still would not be happy, simply for the fact I had to put up with all of this bullshit for so long. Nothing will satisfy me at all. Helpless, emotionless, hopeless is where I stand. I carry an unmeasurable amount of pity on me, that is deteriorating what I am, who I want to become, and everything else that I come in contact to. I loathe myself for what I’ve allowed myself to become.

Beginning this month, I’ve decided that because nothing I have done can no longer help me, I am going to go to counseling for my problems. I don’t fully believe that counseling helps anyone, because every counselor I have previously talked to has never told me anything to do. They’ve always just let me rant, bring up all of my problems again, and overall just make everything worse. I don’t believe that counselors are good people, like they’re portrayed to be. They’re paid to listen to people’s bullshit, and talk to them. I can only hope I’m wrong. I need to find someone like me; I need to find someone who will talk to me because they enjoy helping people, and they have had similar experiences. Someone paid to do this doesn’t seem like the person I want to tell all of my secrets, lies, and other personal information I hold.