I’ve had enough.
I’ve had enough of burnout, of failure, of unjustified depression.
I’ve had enough of guilt, of regret, of denial.
I’ve had enough of responsibilities, of mood swings, of people filled with deception and exploitation.
I’ve had enough of people, phases.
I’ve had enough of being alone and lonely, of emptiness, of academic stress, of stress in general.
I’ve had enough of your bullshit that never made sense, of your inconsistent minds.
I’ve had enough of nicotine, of paranoia, of overthinking, of being hyper-aware.
I’ve had enough of knowing too much about my surroundings, of my own intelligence, of my mind that never shuts up.
I’ve had enough of striving, of pushing so hard, of endless practice with no results.
I’ve had enough of feeling lost, of suicidal thoughts, of falling into existential crises.
I’ve had enough of battling MDD for so long.
I’ve had enough of hearing “You’re not living your age” or “Why are you thinking about that? You’re still too young.”
I’ve had enough of poverty, of being misunderstood, of being stuck in miserable situations.
I’ve had enough of chasing, of being chained, of thinking, of talking, of justifying myself.
I’ve had enough of alarms, of surprises, of constant downfalls, of repeating the same mistakes.
I’ve had enough of feeling out of control, of feeling like I’m running out of time.
I’ve had enough of self-doubt, of impostor syndrome, of self-hate, of sadness.
I’ve had enough of deadlines, of addictions, of my own consciousness constantly judging me.
I’ve had enough of trying to hold on to whatever is left.
I’ve had enough of losing people, of endless goodbyes.
I’ve had enough of being overwhelmed.
I’m still 19. Why the fuck am I thinking about all this shitty stuff?
Why am I always over-carrying?
Why are my dark thoughts invading and dominating everything?
I feel them spreading through my body.
Is it even me thinking, or something else?
It feels stronger than the last time — back in August 2023.
Is it the same MDD but in a reformed, reinforced shape?
His thoughts — they almost completely take over my mind.
Only tiny fragments of me are still processing normally.
I’m scared of having it again.
And I remember: he’s the one who made me distant.
He’s the one who kept pushing me every single day.
But… it’s growing inside me now.
And I don’t feel safe.
It’s taking over my body without any regard for the damage it’s causing.
I’m trying to cling to what’s left of myself, but I can’t.
It’s overpowering me, and I’m losing this battle.
Please don’t believe what he says.
He’s trying to dress up this disaster, make it seem fine.
He’s the one who’s “okay” — not me.
Please trust me.
I am still myself.
He says this is all for attention — complete bullshit.
Weak excuses.
Right now, I can barely control my hands.
I don’t even know if I’ll manage to publish this.
I don’t know what he really wants.
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again.
His grip on me was so strong, it made me believe he was my only protection — but that’s not what true safety feels like.
Is he even changing my memories now?
I can’t tell if I’m truly safe, or if this is just another layer of his control.
Is this what safety is supposed to feel like?
I have a faint, distant memory of what real safety felt like.
Maybe he’s trying to convince me he’s protecting me?
Maybe I’m just overreacting?
Maybe it’s all for our shared benefit?
I remember trusting him before — his strength made me feel powerful too.
Am I tired of that power now?
Do I really want to end this?
Could I even end it if I tried?
Is it even necessary?
I guess if it’s not hurting me outright, maybe I can just let it be.
Thank you for keeping me safe, I suppose.
I’ll adapt to the depression.
I’m sure he knows how to manage it.
I trusted him once.
I’m choosing to trust him again.
Maybe he just needs more time.
I’ll trust the process.
I still believe he…
Finished at Sat, Apr 19.2025