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The last time I was here, I would like to think that I was at my lowest. I was very depressed, living in an abusive household, and in a abusive relationship with someone I had convinced myself was the love of my life. That was just six months ago. I was just a fool of a little girl.
I would like to believe that I grew up a little bit since then. I moved out of that house, left that scumbag of a boyfriend, but still depressed. I believe that once you're depressed, you'll always be depressed. It's been eight long years of dealing with depression and seven longer years of having a therapist to try to help cure my depression.
I have bad days and I have my good days, but they are hardly even days. More like good moments throughout a day that isn't exhuasting me to the point where sleeping forever and never waking up sounds like the way to go.
I've gave up on my dreams and everything that I've ever wanted to do. I wanted to be a writer, I still write, but i don't know what happened along the lines of writing and not being a writer. I wanted to be a nurse, but why would I take care of other people if I can't even take care of myself?
Anyways, there's an update. Things that didn't change: I have no friends. Still depressed. I want to be dead.
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