For the longest time I have felt as if I am drowning in the blackest mire. No way out, just the darkness closing in.
But to explain to someone- ANYONE- well telling the truth takes more strength than I think I possess. You see, people believe, because I let them, that my childhood was decent enough. Few have ever seen me even mildly miserable- heaven forbid I should let them see the extent of my depression! I wear a face for the world and another in private... But the truth is my father was, and still is, an abusive shit. Such that I have exiled myself from my home and am studying too far away to visit. Just today I decided it would be too painful to return for the winter- I would rather stay here, alone, in the holidays than have to endure THAT house for even a day, let alone three weeks. I cannot face it anymore.
Yet even though I can logically trace the course of my depression and the deterioration of my sanity it still becomes increasingly difficult to cope. Small things become a chore. I shun human company. My studies are suffering. Some days I sleep too much; others I am too anxious to sleep at all. I do not want to feel like this anymore- I look out the window, see that it is a pleasant day, and want to end it.
Now I find myself increasingly turning to alcohol. And that has consequences of its own. I find that it loosens my tongue, and I admit things I never would sober. Then I do stupid things... And in the morning, when I wake, all I am left with is guilt and a massive hangover.