I don't know why I'm putting this here. Hardly anyone knows me on here and I'm sure they don't want to hear about my emotional vomit. But I really need to write this...please don't be too hard on me. I've dealt with severe bipolar depression since I was twelve years old. I'm twenty three now. I've been on every medication, been to a mental clinic, and had electro shock therapy, all in desperation to get back to feeling normal again. I know what you must be thinking, why would I want to be normal, it's boring. Well...I'm sure normal people can get out of bed in the morning without wishing that the world would just implode. I'm sure normal people can handle going to work every day without having an anxiety attack. I'm sure normal people don't bludgeon themselves over the head each and every day about what a failure they are, or how they let everyone they cared about down, or how ugly, and fat, and stupid, and disgusting they are. Always. This stuff is always in my head, and I can't get it out. Every once in a while I'm able to ignore it and actually enjoy life, but after the bliss is over, I'm back to rock bottom. I just wish I could function normally. I wish I could function well. It's just so fucked up, and at the same time nothing is going on; it's all inside of my head, and that makes me even more frustrated. Weed is my only relief. I probably shouldn't be using it the way I do, but I have to feel relieved of the crap on my shoulders at least once a day, or else I constantly think about killing myself. It makes me sick. I want to live, but not if life is going to be like this for the rest of my time on this earth. I have a wonderful man who loves me, and I love him, but I always fear that I'll be without him someday, and dwelling on such a thing will probably make it happen. It's like this monster is inside of me, constantly feeding on my dreams and wishes, my goodness and vitality. It stole my passion, my energy, and my conviction. I wish I didn't think of killing myself. I love what few friends I have, and my family, and that would just hurt them so much. But they don't understand how much it hurts for me to live my life, day after day, just a constant barrage of self hate, sadness, anger, and emptiness. I don't even know what happened to me to make me like this. I had a very happy childhood. I was good in school, I had loving parents, lots of cool friends, and I was so active and shrewd. It seems like a lifetime ago, because the life I live now is the complete opposite of that. And constantly people tell me, 'you need to snap out of it', or 'you're better off than a lot of people', or 'just keep a positive attitude'. I have no emotional control. I have no inner peace. I've tried and tried, looked under many rocks to find the answers, and just...nothing. I can't even work because I'm so bereft of energy, sanity, and tranquility. I'm so afraid of failure that I end up sabotaging myself. There's this monstrous thing inside of me and only when I'm high do I get any relief from it. Actually, when I'm high, I'm able to feel it for what it is. It doesn't hurt, but I do feel its presence, a brooding, ugly, disgusting presence. I've had so many scrapes with death, at my own hands. I wish I could break the cycle, and just be content for once. I really don't know what to do anymore, guys. Can you imagine an existence that's just completely devoid of vitality and purpose? Well, it's the life I'm living now. And don't worry, I'm not going to kill myself, if that's what you're thinking. I decided a long time ago that I would never kill myself, mostly because I don't have the balls to hurt all the people I care about. I guess I just need someone to tell me that it's all going to eventually be okay. I have to keep hoping. Hope is all I have anymore.