Sometimes I have suicidal thoughts. There are no plans, but the thought is there. I don't always know how to make it through the day. Boyfriend is the only thing that holds me together, like glue, so leaving him for an hour feels like the end of the world. I know it's not, but without him, I feel very alone in this world. There's no warm body or hot sex to distract me, just cold everywhere.
I don't know how I'll feel when I wake up tomorrow, or the next day. I hope I'll feel better and I hold onto the hope that, at some point in the past, I was happy for extended periods of time and that must happen again. But everyday that goes by sinks deeper and feels like maybe this will finally be the depression I never recover from. Perhaps this is the end, and my hope is foolish.
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