The older I get, the more unhappier I become. I know it’s up to me to better myself, but I see the point less and less as the years go on. I’m full of dread, fear, and worthlessness.

Escapism into fantasy worlds is my only relief at times, but in a way that ends up making me more depressed, knowing those worlds are unachievable.

Just needed a vent somewhere.. sorry y’all.

And i'm totally horrified and humiliated. I've been hiding how bad i've gotten lately, isolated myself from friends and family until i can get my shit together and show my face again. But my dad came over to look for a tool he needed to borrow in my house, while i was at work, and he didn't tell me. I have a good relationship with him and he's always been welcome to come and go whenever, but he usually lets me know he's coming. I think he did it on purpose because he knows i've been struggling lately and i haven't been talking to him much or letting him in my house when he stops by.

I called him this morning and told him i wish he had let me know what he needed instead of just coming in my house. I said i'm embarassed by how nasty i've let my house become and i know i'm a failure. He apologized and said he didn't see anything wrong with my house, but i know he was lying to try to make me feel better. It stinks, i have a cat and his litter box was full, destroyed blinds i haven't replaced yet, sink full of dishes, clothes all over the floor, trash on the counters, floors and bathrooms haven't been cleaned in a couple months. It's awful.

I don't know what to do. I'm in my 30s and i think past trauma and untreated depression has caught up with me. The problem is i can't afford treatment. I can't afford insurance, and i'm barely able to keep up with my bills and buy food. So i think my only way out is to find the strength to pull myself out of it. I'm trying but it's been getting worse. The humiliation isn't helping.

Life sucks, i hate myself and nothing makes me want to get up in the morning anymore

Absent family, no friends and no partners? Is it possible to live happily, completely alone and isolated?

I don’t know what happened to me lately.
I used to have things I looked forward to. Little things, even. I had interests, excitement, motivation.
Now I wake up and everything feels strangely dull. I keep waiting for that feeling of wanting something again, and it just doesn’t come.
And then there’s my appearance sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t see myself. I just see everything I’ve been feeling reflected back at me.
Today I looked at myself and genuinely didn’t want to keep looking.

Then I got a message that pissed me off more than I wish it had.
Maybe it wasn’t even that serious. Maybe another person would’ve read it and forgotten about it five minutes later. But it hit me at exactly the wrong time, when I was already feeling fragile, and suddenly all the things I had been trying not to think about came rushing back.
And that’s the part that hurts the most.

It feels like I’m already struggling to be kind to myself, and somehow the smallest thing can make me turn against myself all over again.
I miss myself.
Not some perfect version of myself. Just me.
The person who could look in a mirror without immediately picking herself apart. The person who could get excited about something without forcing it. The person who didn’t feel like she was constantly trying to catch up with a version of herself that disappeared somewhere along the way.
I don’t know when I became this tired.
I just know that today, for some reason, it feels heavier than usual.
And I really, really wish I could look at myself and feel like I’m looking at someone I know.

I mean literally asleep. I wonder what that says about me.

I'm 23 and not happy with how my life is going/has turned out. It's not completely my fault, but some of it is. I'm too stupid to change anything anyway. I'm also too old to course correct. I'm only happy when I'm drunk or high. Life has no meaning to me. Every day is the same and my life is so fucking boring. I never go anywhere or do anything. I'm ugly, I'm stupid, and I'm worthless. I have nothing going for me and nothing to look forward to. I probably SHOULD kill myself but I'm too scared. I can't fucking do anything

Can someone at least pretend to care

Hi. I'm feeling really desperate and depressed. I have a disability that makes it almost impossible for me to do things with my hands for longer than 25 minutes. My Arms, wrists, hands and fingers hurt all the time. I can't even use a gaming controller because the sticks and buttons hurt my fingers so bad. I also cannot do real sports because exhausting activities make my body hurt. Taking a walk is ok or dancing for a couple minutes. I have lost my job because of the disability so I'm just sitting at home every day, go to doctors appointments sometimes and read and watch TV.

I started hating reading, shows and music because I have no other ideas for activities with my disability. I also started hating walks. I'm so frustrated and unhappy and have lost my purpose.

Does anyone have any ideas for activities with these special circumstances?

For your information, I've recently started therapy but it's just in the beginning so it's not helping anything yet.

I don't why the time flies by, and I feel like I'm too old.

I can't stop thinking that I'm aged, socially isolated(ofc never dated a girl), and failed myself.

I should have realized that the time is the most valuable thing before 20s. I'm actually in my tears while I'm writing this post. I regret deeply about the past.

I think about my own death constantly, think about no matter what is after death is better then what this is. Everyday I think I about it will feel like and when will it come. I am about to turn 30 is December but life has been so lonely and exhausting that death is going to feel so relieving maybe there is a better on the other side but if not at least we are all at peace in someway

I would like to die.

I am 28 and I have been struggling with this since I was 8.

I have medicated. I have done so much therapy. I have done spiritual and religious routes for comfort and inner peace.

Around 25/26 I had a very serious series of attempts that lead to me be hospitalized. Inside of the hospital continued trying to kill myself so much I wasn’t allowed to shower alone for a week bc I would take that time to beat myself against the wall.

My mom visited me during that hospital stay and we had a very serious talk. My mom has had a hard and bad life. Not her exact words, but she said she wouldn’t be okay if died. That she couldn’t the rock if that happened. And she asked me not to do it.

I don’t kill myself for her. We made an agreement I wait until one my brothers set up to help the other after she dies and I get to go too.

Sometimes I get so mad at my mom making me make this promise to her. I know she’s just doing that what’s right and best but I just want to be here. I just would like to go now. I’m tired of fighting. I’m so tired of having to everyone else ahead of me always to accommodate them. Even in death I cannot be selfish. That’s how much the women in my family must suffer for the comforts of others.

The ultimate dream is I visit a doctor’s office and then I explain I have done x, y, z they do some tests to confirm. They give me the option of treatment plan or humane death. I choose death. They give me medication and I die. They contact my family and have grief specialists walk them through the next steps. They explain the my family how much how it got to be truly my choice.

I don’t want them deviated and I don’t want this pain to transfer to them. I want them to get help and be okay.

I want to leave them a letter and tell them to listen for me in that hum sound bees make in yard when they’re clustering on our wisteria. And I would tell them I’m sorry and that I love them.

There’s prolly hella typos sorry I’m not rereading it I was crying plus dyslexic. I’m ok I just wish I could go

Often, when I try to search for words or guidance on this topic or discuss where I am in life and why I am depressed, a lot of the inspirational stories seem to be about someone who had already built a life and scaffolding and needed to recover from a setback. Or the guidance is really more like a permission slip to use the resources you were likely leaning on all along. It often just makes me feel worse. I am totally at rock bottom and all I can think of is ending it.

Anyway, this is just me venting. I just had to let it out somewhere.

I'm 15 years old, living in the UK and constantly struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts. From the outside I have a 'good' life; I'm a neurotypical 5,8 straight white male who has quite a lot of friends and is in the 'top set' (smartest class) for all my classes as well as playing football (soccer) at a respectable level. However on the inside I constantly feel like shit. I only really like 1-2 of my friends and get little to no female interaction partly due to me going to an all boys school and also due to my low confidence. Any girl who shows me basic human kindness i get attached too until she ends up getting a boyfriend. I visit this subreddit often and read lots of stories of people who were dealt a far worse hand than me which makes me feel like my feelings of suicide are unjust and that I just need to toughen up. I just feel so empty inside when I talk to my 'friends' about stuff and i cant help but think about how almost all my friends are fake as shit / not nice people. I have mild anxiety issues and I got robbed by my friends friend at a party while i was drunk one time but these are just normal teenage events? Does anyone share any expierences like this where nothing in there life is going particuarlly terrible but they just feel like shit all the time or is it just my age, looking for advice and thank you for reading my poorly written paragraph.

Hello all. Like many of you, I have chronic depression. Of course, situations/circumstances can make it worse, but even at my best it will creep in.

I realized recently I’ve been trying to pretend it’s only situational and that with enough hard word or change, I can fix it and come out of it.

I would like to try accepting that my depression is recurring.

I have a therapist, but I don’t believe he’s trained in acceptance and commitment therapy, which sounds like it could be useful for this purpose.

Outside of therapy, does anyone have techniques for coming to terms with their mental illness? I want to stop trying to fix what can’t be fixed, or feeling guilty I cant solve away my problem.

I’m hoping by embracing the darkness there will be less inner conflict.

Hi, I’m 22F in NYC and I honestly feel like I’m
living for nothing. I come from a rlly shit home situation so I knew after undergrad that I had to snag a good paying job no matter what in order to support myself and keep myself away from that place.

For context my father who makes over 400k and lives in San Francisco, divorced my mother and has abused me my entire life. This job allowed me to sever contact with him, though the situation is complex and borders on him simultaneously abandoning me… all that to say, my mother is my only financial support and she makes 39k as a public school teacher.

I fought so hard to get a job (as I do really love to work and feel productive and I went to school for this!!) and I was/am happy but the constant grind has me exhausted. I’m on month 3 and the 45 commute there and usually 55 commute back is exhausting. It is always raining every single day for some reason so I get to be drenched for the day. I have an eating disorder and trouble with finding things to eat/the courage to eat alone.

By the time I get home, it’s about 6pm and by then, I really don’t have any time or even energy to do anything. I sleep maybe 6 hours and then repeat my terrible days.

My gf has moved back home (just 50 mins from NYC) so she can visit occasionally on weekends but other than that like my sources of comfort stem from my eating disorder and seeing my roommate and doing things occasionally.

I tried to make myself feel better at least by trying to switch up my lunch from milkshakes to perhaps a more healthy meal but upon trying to even brainstorm, I cannot even fathom how “meal prep” would work. Combined with my ARFID/anorexia, trying to imagine prepping my warm savory steel cut oats, or a soup, or cheesy confection or something of that sort just seems impossible. I don’t have energy at night to make all of that stuff and I sure as hell don’t have time in the morning.

I’m also terrible at cooking and usually mess up and honestly I’m not sure if I’m mentally stable to handle that right now. I barely have any containers or thermos’ so it’s probably out of the picture in terms of switching my lunches to cheer me up. I’m stubborn and honestly just wanted to attempt to do this switch tomorrow but I’m not willing to try again next week after “preparing or trying”.

I have no will to try this or that. I have bad luck and am in a rut and sitting at the bottom of the valley.
I feel completely unheard by those I love because I’m always in “a bad mood” or upset or something similar and my things get brushed off bc they know I’ll just be in a better mood at some point.

What do I do. I feel like I’m living for absolutely reason and I see no light at the end of the tunnel.

Please help as I’m not sure what to do anymore :,)

I apologize if this story doesn’t belong here, but I want to put my story out, how I let my life spiral into depression and weed/alcohol addiction.

28M

Drug and alcohol rehab is something I never thought would happen in my life. I used to be a bright happy kid, played sports, never got into trouble, ok grades at first. Fast forward to a traumatic senior year, I was led on by the girl who I thought loved me for months. We were very intimate with each other (everything but sex pretty much). Very close and it all felt so real and I felt alive. (yeah I know high school relationship but this is a 17-18 year old brain back then) All in the end it ended up being a lie and she was hooking up with someone else the whole time, using me for whatever, attention I guess? We still sort of talked because she wanted to be friends, but she would still talk about this guy to me like nothing ever happened between her and I, this was my mistake as it just added fuel to the fire. All 3 of us worked together at the same place so I had to go through the unfortunate pain of that. I would just sit in the back room and cry, or in the walk in cooler, hiding my face from both of them. My grades slipped harder than they had before.

Couple weeks later I Had to sit by her at graduation due to our last names, being one letter apart. I couldn’t help but happen to see her texting him about seeing each other that night. Almost like she wanted me to see it on purpose. She really wasn’t being very discrete with her phone. I really don’t know how to describe the feeling that came upon me right then and there but my best description would be that my heart is buried in the ground underneath where that chair sat still to this day.

3 days later I start my blue collar job that my parents made me get because I couldn’t get into a decent college. A broken 18 year old depressed kid who slept all day at home with a blackout curtain when not working because of a broken heart. Got to get my ass ridden by my dickhead foreman for a solid year straight until I guess I proved my worth there and he finally backed off. During this time period is where I started to smoke all the time, and drink alone.

I quit going out, I quit talking to most people except a small group. You couldn’t even get me to go out to a bar where you know the place would be dead. 10 years later yes I admit I am still a virgin and it is the most uncomfortable conversation in the world when people ask me about my love life. I can’t casually talk to woman anymore because I am very embarrassed over it, I know it’s something i shouldn’t be embarrassed about, but it just seems like it’s a good reason to terrorize vulnerable people over. All the guys at work most of whom are married want to try and live their “young sex lives” through me because they think it is easy to catch some tail. I used to get made fun of a lot there for being a virgin and never able to talk to girls, or would never have any stories on Monday about hitting the bars and picking up chicks. They always ask if it was a “sausage party” if I talk about something I did with friends on a weekend or something. My grandpa constantly makes fun of me to this day telling me I need to get laid, and at this point even though he doesn’t know my story he will not understand, and I am not sure if I want to speak to him anymore.

All in all this trauma led to weed and alcohol addiction for me for the past 10 years. I think the only reason I didn’t fall into anything else was because I would never leave the house other for work. I was a functioning stoner, high all the time, nobody knew. Dab pens all day everyday, joints, sneak a one hitter here and there. Nobody knew, I was still solid at my job, just on autopilot, on autopilot for everything I life. I am over her, I don’t want to be with her looking back on it, we would have not have worked out. She knew how it affected me at first, but she doesn’t know how I have ruined my own life over it. I am absolutely terrified of any rejection and something in my brain keeps telling me if you try and meet somebody new it’s just going to end up in humiliation again. A couple months ago one of my best friends got married and I was dreading the wedding, I did my best to put on my fake persona. Got rejected a couple dances and immediately got flashbacks to my past trauma. I had to just get out of there. I couldn’t do it.

Back to the situation-ship she wanted to stay friends but I just couldn’t do it anymore. We stopped talking completely about a few weeks after graduation. She texted me years ago asking if I was going to attend the 5 year reunion, and she would really like to see me and catch up, but I just told her sorry I was busy and couldn’t make it.

What I was actually doing that night was high off my brains, with a crushed 30’pack on the floor of my room and laying in my bed crying staring at the pistol on my nightstand. My 10 year was just a couple weeks ago, can you guess how I spent that night as well?

I am so afraid to get hurt like that again to the point I forgot who I am. The weed made me forget who I am. I have no personality, social skills, or charm any more. The only thing I have for me is a good career that I haven’t fumbled yet somehow, and I do think I’m an ok looking guy and am reasonably fit, except now I have heavy eye bags under my eyes all the time. I have seen some people from back then and they all noted how I look different. Honestly the only thing that looks different about me now is I have a mustache, eye bags, and look like I’m about to die everyday. My dreams may be the worst of them all, even when I’m high I get nightmares of horrific things or events involving friends and family, the people I love. I just want to be happy healthy and normal again…

I was diagnosed with depression when I was around 8 years old. I’m 27 now.
I was abused and mostly ignored growing up. I didn’t have many friends and spent a lot of time at home playing video games because real life always felt painful.
From a very young age, I started noticing how much appearance seemed to matter. I watched other guys my age get attention from girls, be treated better socially, and even seem to get more positive attention from teachers, while I mostly felt invisible. It didn’t help that I was extremely shy and skinny.
I remember often coming home from school, putting a chair in front of the mirror, and just sitting there looking at myself. I genuinely believed that if I had simply been born better-looking, everything would have been easier — making friends, being treated like a normal human being, getting attention from girls, feeling wanted.
This was long before all the current internet obsession with looks became mainstream.
At some point, I made it my mission to become more attractive. I got heavily into fitness, not because I loved training or cared about the sport itself, but purely for cosmetic reasons.
And the fucked-up part is: it worked.
For the first time, I started getting some attention, respect, compliments, and admiration. Nothing else I had done before seemed to change how people treated me as much as something as stupid and superficial as building a better body.
It wasn’t anything crazy. I didn’t suddenly become popular or desirable to everyone. It was more like going from complete invisibility to finally getting a little bit of attention.
And over the years, I kept seeing things that reinforced this belief.
You meet some guy who is 6’4”, handsome, tattooed, confident, and suddenly he seems to have friends, women, attention, admiration — all the things I desperately wanted. I would hear people talk about attractive people in exactly the way I wished someone would talk about me.
I wanted that admiration. I wanted to feel chosen. I wanted to feel like I was finally enough.
And it never really stopped.
I’m still obsessed with appearance. It makes me jealous and miserable, but in a strange way it also gives me hope. Because part of me keeps thinking: if I can somehow reach a certain level of attractiveness, maybe then I’ll finally be enough. Maybe then I’ll finally be chosen. Maybe then someone will actually love me.
Obviously I know personality matters too. But sometimes I wonder: how are you supposed to develop this healthy, confident, lovable personality when your entire foundation was neglect, rejection, insecurity, and constantly feeling like you weren’t enough?
I feel like people carry their childhood with them for their entire lives. I’ve met people who are 50, 60, 70 years old and you can still see how much of their personality was built around things that happened to them when they were young.
Maybe that’s what scares me the most.
That I can change my body, my hair, my clothes, my face, my career, my social skills — everything on the outside — and still have that same kid sitting in front of the mirror somewhere inside me, wondering what he has to change before someone finally thinks he’s worth choosing.
Sorry for the ramble. I just needed to get this off my chest.

I won't make this a long trauma dump, please just understand that I have struggled with terrible events in my life, hopelessness, and suicidal ideation for roughly more than a decade. I have attempted suicide over 5 times and I plan to do it again since I can't resist my thoughts anymore. I wish there was a way to keep myself up, but I exhaust myself with even the thought of occupying myself with distractions once more. For me, death feels as though once you lose your consciousness permanently, you cannot conceptualize any sort of thoughts or feelings due to the absence of your conscious. Essentially, there are no true consequences which you will exist to witness. Although, as time passes, it's easier to rest, understanding this is how my life will turn out in the end. I have tried to get help, I have tried to change my mindset, but it feels like these weights are hardwired into how I truly am.

I want to ask one last question:

Can you truly live a life like this?

Plain and simple: there is no one on this earth or in my life that really cares about me.

My parents and family are no bad people, but all caught up in their own problems. Friends don't ask how i feel or how I'm doing. If i bring up the subject on my own, they dismiss it quickly with "ah, you're fine, you can't feel that bad!"

I assume, if I disappear tomorrow, maybe my colleagues will notice. If I tell them I'm on a spontaneous vacation, nobody will notice I'm gone for maybe two weeks or so.

And that makes me really, really sad on one side. On the other, I more and more feel the urge to "proof it"...

Hola tengo 31, voy a hablar de mi aunque pienso que no tiene mucho sentido, pero ahora mismo me paso noche sin dormir pensando sola y pensé que al menos podría dejar por escrito que siento. Soy mujer y no he trabajado nunca, he intentando quitarme una carrera universitaria en audiovisuales pero me atasque en el último año con el proyecto de fin de carrera. Después me saqué un master en rigging de personajes 3d y character fx. Un cursillo pequeño después en realidad aumentada y realidad virtual. Y ahora estoy intentando sacarme un ciclo superior en videojuegos, me queda una asignatura en la que estoy atascada y el proyecto de fin de ciclo. Lo sé... es absurdo, no entiendo para que me he formado tanto si no lo utilicé bien para conseguir trabajo. Cualquier trabajo no tiene que ser relacionado de lo mio. No tengo amigos, mis padres y mi novio han sido mi gran apoyo económico y sentimental en todo este tiempo, sé que les debo mucho y estoy siendo una carga. Tengo depresión desde hace seis años aproximadamente, solo pienso en que soy patética y no merezco nada, que todo es culpa mia y que debería desaparecer para no molestar a nadie mas nunca. No tengo amigos, me he aislado tanto por vergüenza a ver qué los demas contruyen una vida y hablan de sus trayectorias que me he quedado sola. Tampoco soy capaz de gastar en ocio como los demás, sé que soy un estorbo, la comida, techo, internet, cosas basicas del dia a dia ni puedo pagarlas yo. No sé que hacer. No quiero molestar más, mis padres estan cerca de los 60 años y siempre estan preocupados por mi. No quiero depender de ellos. Tengo miedo todo el tiempo de qué pasaría si les pasase algo, no sé si podría cuidar de ellos en el estado que soy ahora y eso me da pánico. Creo que la he jodido de forma irremediable. No sé como explicar en mi currículum que no he trabajado nunca, creo que soy una redflag para cualquier empresa.

I lie awake.
Distant angry voices of the past echo in my head.
I keep hearing them as they keep me awake.
Afraid of the monsters in my head.
Afraid of the pain that lies ahead.

I lie awake.
Memories that haunt and destroy everything in their wake.
But again I learn that all my friends were fake.
That their patience was thin and their ego’s as thick as cake.

I lie awake.
Alone in silence I must take.
These bitter pills to keep my smile a fake.
Not know how that this time it’s going to make or break.

I lie awake.
Fear and emptiness is now my make.
How much more must I take.
Until there is no more and I break.

I don’t think I’ll be able to explain anyone what’s going on with me and whatever i say people just say it’s not something worth worrying. But i am. And there’s nothin i can do about it.
I just want to quit. I want to leave. I am so done.