Hello there,
This is going to be a little long, so I apologize in advance. This is just a part of my story.
My name is Alexis. I’m 21 years old and I suffer from severe depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, body dysmorphia, self harm, and suicidal ideation/tendencies. I’ve been going to therapy since I was 11 years old and have been medicated since then. I was first hospitalized when I was 15 for trying to kill myself and since then on, things haven’t been the same. I’ve probably been hospitalized over 20 times in my lifetime, but then again I’ve stopped counting.
I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I could tell you how much I hate being alive and how much I hate myself but then again everyone else tells me to just keep praying, to keep my spirits up, to keep trying—well, nothing’s changed. I still want to die, I’ve wanted to die since I was 15. I have so much unexplainable pain and an unbearable heaviness in my heart that no amount of love that anyone offers is enough. No amount of clothes I buy, no amount of food I eat, no amount of drugs I take can numb the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness that I have. And I don’t know where it comes from. Of course, doctors tell me that it’s a chemical imbalance and that medication will fix it, but why has no medication done that yet? And even so, why when I ask God to heal me, He doesn’t?
I beg God every night to take me. I beg Him, I plead with Him, I bargain with Him, yet I wake up the next morning having in a state of panic that I’m still alive. Why does God want to keep me alive when all I do is suffer? Everyone tells me that it will be worth it in the end once I find out whatever it is my meaning in life is—I’m telling you right now, it’s not.
I really want to be with my Father one day, but if I take my life now I feel like I’m risking it. I have no hope left. I don’t even think I have faith left. If someone can spare me some wisdom or a similar experience maybe that would help me. But I can’t reach out any farther than I have. I want to give up.
I apologize, again for my little rant. Sometimes it’s just hard to breathe—I had to get some things off my chest. I appreciate anyone who responds or took time to read.
This is going to be a little long, so I apologize in advance. This is just a part of my story.
My name is Alexis. I’m 21 years old and I suffer from severe depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, body dysmorphia, self harm, and suicidal ideation/tendencies. I’ve been going to therapy since I was 11 years old and have been medicated since then. I was first hospitalized when I was 15 for trying to kill myself and since then on, things haven’t been the same. I’ve probably been hospitalized over 20 times in my lifetime, but then again I’ve stopped counting.
I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I could tell you how much I hate being alive and how much I hate myself but then again everyone else tells me to just keep praying, to keep my spirits up, to keep trying—well, nothing’s changed. I still want to die, I’ve wanted to die since I was 15. I have so much unexplainable pain and an unbearable heaviness in my heart that no amount of love that anyone offers is enough. No amount of clothes I buy, no amount of food I eat, no amount of drugs I take can numb the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness that I have. And I don’t know where it comes from. Of course, doctors tell me that it’s a chemical imbalance and that medication will fix it, but why has no medication done that yet? And even so, why when I ask God to heal me, He doesn’t?
I beg God every night to take me. I beg Him, I plead with Him, I bargain with Him, yet I wake up the next morning having in a state of panic that I’m still alive. Why does God want to keep me alive when all I do is suffer? Everyone tells me that it will be worth it in the end once I find out whatever it is my meaning in life is—I’m telling you right now, it’s not.
I really want to be with my Father one day, but if I take my life now I feel like I’m risking it. I have no hope left. I don’t even think I have faith left. If someone can spare me some wisdom or a similar experience maybe that would help me. But I can’t reach out any farther than I have. I want to give up.
I apologize, again for my little rant. Sometimes it’s just hard to breathe—I had to get some things off my chest. I appreciate anyone who responds or took time to read.
