Yall pls help me out with this one. Im so confused fr,

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Yall pls help me out with this one. Im so confused fr,
Do you know what I do when I'm depressed? I take my leopard gecko out of his terrarium, because yes, he's judging me, but he always has that silly little face that makes me laugh. Oh, and he always does the best bombastic side-eye.
I feel so hopeless about my future, I wanna vomit everytime I think about it.
Guess whoâs getting antidepressants! đ
In 2017 I was in a hospital bed listening to doctors talking about me and not to me
They were telling my grandma that I would never walk talk or be able to feed myself again
That I was essentially a vegetable
I had damaged my brain and body with so many suicide attempts (lack of oxygen)
Long story short against all odds I am still here and though I canât do everything I used to Iâm doing way more than anyone would have expected
I have trouble with my hands and severe hand contractures but I have adapted
Iâm 6 years off of meth and heroin something I never thought would be possible and I donât wake up every day angry that Iâm still breathing
I understand pain and struggle and if anyone out there is hurting I am a safe space to reach out to
Having depression is bullshit cause I was feeling fine a few days ago why tf am I sad now?????
"A new home" before we were 17
I want to miss this little room someday and not hate it as much as I do today. It was the room where my adolescence came and left. A room cast by spells, and a room furnished with flowers in a vase that screamed back at you or gave you a sense of joy. And a room with four lonely corners, vigorously pondered at, has now left a scarâwhat did I ponder? I pondered, wondering of my self leaving my little room, growing as tall as Jackâs magical beanstalk...or something. Reaching point B from point A, eventually. All while the world grew. Doors open, lights awaken after being dimmed for so long. I stood stagnated until I detached myself from the walls that sealed my identity. Could I have been tickled by the grass stalks and buds beginning to sprout beside me, among my vulnerability? My flesh, which had yet to find a source of warmth after being so cold for so long, found its source. My hopeless notes became poems, ballads, or some form of meaning to dissipate the misery I bore in me. A mind and a stomach finally waking up at ease, waking up to a world that isnât just in my head, waking up to true characters, the awakened troll who left their tavern, who at first detested. It was the poem I wrote about myself when I was 12. Now, 16, soon to be 17 (now 18, soon to be 19) [now 20, I find myself reading this again]. And once more find myself in the same squared space, encompassed by thin walls. In a constant rearrangement frenzy of furniture for a better change within a new slate. The only change was the roomâsubjective as I could be, the clothing rack was black, yet now it is white. Yet still, a rack is a rack. How can differences be broad yet at the same time slim? And idk where my head was at the time, but ever since I lived here, I could only overshoot the past or the future. The echoes of my fears hardly seem to be tamed. The misery clutching my bust never seems to want to let go, the world around my body was unfortunate enough to rise to my head, the world up above my neck is thicker than stone, tormenting me. âHelp!â I yell, yet I remain unheard as the cry is never out loud but in my head. Because the trauma is continuing, from the tip of a stem that hopes to bloom a flower. The time ticksâmy time is frozen, slowing, freezing until the ice breaks again, back to water. Or my time is rapid, as is the speed of sound. This everlasting cycle is yet to subside and let me have a solely present time
How people genuinely act after saying âIâm so Cassie skinsâ âIâm at my lowestâ or âhell is a teenage girl!â When they know they never experienced any anything about eating struggles/ideationđ