I finished my semester two weeks ago. Looks like my gambit worked: Focusing on one of the two classes I thought I was gonna fail made me pass it with a C, and as expected, I failed the other.
Then I went on to try to do my driving test again. I got a 98/100 as a score but still failed because I engaged in some intersection where I shouldn’t have engaged, the exam made me stressed and the trees were blocking my way.
And here we are again, in my apartment. I’m still eating badly, still sleeping badly. I tried to take an appointment to see a psychologist at my university, and after a short counseling period, they gave me another appointment… In June, yea, I guess they’re maybe busy at this time of the year? So I’m stuck a month in this shitty and crippling depression, where I struggle to eat and sleep properly on a daily basis. Even now, my room is a complete mess.
And I don’t feel that it’s because I don’t like what I’m doing right now. I just don’t feel like getting up in the morning anymore. I have things I want to work on, however, I’m the only driving force in it, if I don’t initiate it, it doesn’t happen. In the end, just like before, it’s me and this screen, and everyone on the other side can’t really care less about me, because they have their own problems too. And if I talk too much about my problems, they get sick of it, so I just stop talking about my problems, I just cower up in a corner, assume my position, and just slowly die inside.
Every time I’ve tried to reach out for help here, or have been offered help, I’ve been taken advantage of in the least funny of ways. Nobody here helps, everyone tries to fuck me over. And whenever I meet somebody any interesting, I live too far away to grasp any kind of interest.
I don’t know what to say anymore. Every single day, just sitting here, just, here. And nobody cares or will care. It seems like unless you threaten to kill yourself, depression isn’t a thing, it’s not important. And I think that’s fucking stupid.