My depression is getting deeper and my mood grows darker every day. I feel trapped in the house I am staying in and I have no other options. I can’t even afford a cup of coffee much less a place of my own. The anxiety level of my friend that I am staying with and her son is starting to rub off on me. I have had to take my anxiety meds every day for the last week.
The thoughts of suicide have become front and center again. I find myself having an internal debate going on in my head. If I die here it would be easier for my family to make final arrangements but I don’t want to die somewhere so grey, bleak, and depressing. I want to die somewhere warm and beautiful. I have been cutting nearly every day since I have been here. In the 12 days that I have been here I have 52 new cuts on my arm and an additional 37 on my legs. At this rate I will never be able to wear short sleeves ever again. I need to find a job and need to do it soon or better yet be awarded the disability I have applied for. I honestly don’t think I am stable enough to work more than a couple of days and I am starting to doubt that I ever will be. I hate the thought of being considered permanently disabled because of mental health issues but it may be something that I have to accept.