It's just my journal.

Not Doing So Great

Hello. Guess who's back to making this sad again? Me. Sorry.

I was looking forward to making this book happy, I really was. I hadn't cut, my panic attacks vanished, I was doing great! I was the happiest I'd been in months.

Until yesterday. It was evening and I checked out Markiplier's Twitter. Daniel Kyre of Cyndago died from irreversible brain damage from an apparent suicide attempt on September 18th. In seconds, my world came crashing down. I went and checked on others in the Markiplier community. Everyone was grieving, people were saying "I keep hoping this is a sick joke and I'm waiting for the "gotcha'"

There are people committing suicide. I was talking someone out of suicide, and said that everything was going to be alright, but never got a message back. Two hours later, someone in their family messaged me, saying that she was in the hospital. I failed to help this person. I failed myself. 

I know that sounds extremely selfish, and it is, but when I can't help someone it hurts me. I don't want to be in this endless cycle of "I can't help anyone, I'm worthless." BUT IT HAPPENS ANYWAY.

Some people are really fed up with it, and I get that. But you can't control someone's feelings. I don't want to do this, I don't want to be this way. I don't even want to be alive but here I am, typing away at my goddamn computer at 10:00 at night complaining to anyone who will listen. 

There are people who are really worried about me at the moment, asking me if I'm going to commit suicide and if I'm okay. I'm just going to tell you people:

No, I'm not. I'm not going to do that to you right now. I can't have you go through another loss. 

So don't worry about me, I think I'll be okay. It's just my depression talking. Ignore my complaining. Don't listen or worry about me, because I'll be doing fine.

Okie, bye.