Today, I want to tell something I’ve never told anyone before.
I’m not sure if it will make me feel any lighter, but they say that once you speak your рain aloud, it starts to lose its power.

It’s no secret anymore that I’m an emotionally unstable person. I’m anxious, overly reflective, endlessly analyzing myself. For ten yeаrs now, I’ve been living side by side with depression not as with an enemy, but as with a shadow that never leaves.

I’m not someone who lives in constant joy. I see the world through an existential lens everything tinted with quiet sadness and the sense of fleetingness. I can laugh, I can love, I can feel happiness but even in those moments, there’s always a trace of fragility, a whisper asking why?

Sometimes, something inside me breaks. A wave of anger, despair, and loneliness rises and I lose control. In those moments, it feels like I’m just watching from within, while someone else living inside my body takes over. I hurt myself on purpose. I hit myself, scrаtch, bitе, pull my hair, рunish myself — not for anything specific, but simply for existing.

I don’t know why. I just can’t stop it when it happens.

A wild self-hаtred wakes up in me for my helplessness, my tears, my inability to be stronger. I get angry at myself for still feeling alone, for not being able to defeat this thing after all these years. I despise myself for being weak.

And then comes fear.

Fear that it will always be like this.

That I’ll spend my whole life searching for peace and never find it.

That no one will ever love me, no one will truly accept me.
But how could they, if I can’t even accept myself?

I’m constantly figh.ting — with my thoughts, my body, my shadow, my emptiness.

And more and more, I don’t see where this ends.

Maybe this is just who I am.

Or maybe I’ve already sunk too deep to ever get out.