it doesn’t even seem fair to call it depression. it just feels like nothing. Life just feels like very, very slow death. One day is just like the next. I pray at night that God will show me mercy and that, after all these years, he will just let me sleep forever. I do not dread anything but the unending stretch of years without any real joy.

I fake it, I lie about it, I laugh until tears stream down my face. At the core of me is an endless black hole that sucks the meaning out of every moment. I don’t care about anyone or anything. I work to pay my bills and keep food in my body. I smile at people who wait on me and hope that I encourage them just a little, because nothing encourages me.

Money matters little, because there will never be enough to make me happy. I suspect more money would simply tempt me to eat, drink or drug myself to death. I don’t feel like I can share this with anyone who knows me. I think it would shock them. It kind of shocks me. But not really.

I have a doctor’s appointment next week. More drugs, more vitamins, more sun, more exercise. I do not see the point. Why prolong a life that seems pointless?