There’s a deep abyss in front of me, and I am sinking right into it. I cannot be saved. Cannot be helped. I just have to let myself go, until I hit rock bottom.

I will know I have hit rock bottom when I turn suicidal. But for now… For now, I am just fine. Or so I tell myself.

Hopefully, I will snap out of it right before I take the final plunge.

My friends suggest that I should do something to get out of it. But my hands… Or rather, my willpower is tied. What can I possibly do? Go on holiday? See a professional? I honestly don’t know what I am supposed to do but to just sit here and hope that the feeling will eventually wane off before I take the final plunge.

I am afraid of death.

I remember the last time the abyss appeared. It was around April of this year. I woke up with this persistent feeling of worthlessness and all I could think about was taking that final plunge. I was living on the fifth floor of some apartments somewhere on TRM Drive and a simple dive from the balcony would have taken care of my then miserable self. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I remember staring into my bathroom mirror for hours. Screaming myself hoarse.

“I don’t want to die…” I kept yelling at the strange man in the mirror. That’s how much I fear death.

I locked myself in. Threw the keys away. And called a friend to come over. That’s how I was able to get out of it. And hopefully, I will also manage to weather this oncoming storm.

Have you ever suffered from depression? It is probably the worst thing that can happen to anyone. This bitch can be persistent. You will have a few months of feeling fantastic. Feeling like you’re part of the human race, after all. But then, the sneaky bitch will once again rear her ugly head at you.

If you’re lucky, you’ll know when she starts teasing you before she reaches for your jugular. You’ll feel it coming. The symptoms will be all over. You’re probably drinking alcohol more than you do. Probably smoking more cigarettes than any other time. Wishing for alone time. Feeling alone, even when you are in the presence of a loved one or a multitude. Your sleep cycles will be severely altered. Living recklessly, trying to fill the perceived void in your life

I personally fall under this lucky group. The group that can feel the grip start to tighten. If you are a girl, and I am hitting at you at this time, you better run for the hills. This is not me, and you are certainly not the only girl I am hitting on. It’s my way of filling the void. It is narcissistic I know, and wish there was a way I could control it. Maybe I will, now that I am addressing it before the grip gets any tighter.

I do drugs at an abnormal rate, when the bitch hits. No. Not the hard kind of drugs. Just some cigarettes and alcohol. I hate myself when I smoke. I can feel my chest compress. I start whining, unable to breathe.

The fact that I am smoking adds a few inches into the abyss. It gets deeper and deeper with every puff that I take. I want to take a gun and shoot my damn self for it.

I hate the taste of cigarettes in my mouth, and how the smoke makes my throat dry. I brush my mouth countless times in a day. Then I find myself sauntering back to the local kiosk.

“Some Dunhills, please”

Why can’t I just shake it. This horrible habit. It’s killing me in more ways than I can explain.

I become unperceptive to love when the depression strikes. There’ll always that one girl who would die for me… But I fail to recognize it. I start waging unending wars in my subconscious. Trying to decide whether I should keep the relationship or call it to quits, and run after all these other unsuspecting girls.

Maybe I should just call for a break, if at all she can understand why I need it. Or maybe I shouldn’t be dating at all in the first place. Do you think a person who turns narcissistic when he’s depressed deserves to be with someone else?

I once joined a Facebook group of ‘victims’ who’ve passed in the hands of narcissistic people. I saw the vitriol that was being poured out there for the ‘victimizers’, and it was just nasty. It was like the general consensus in that group was that NPD people just wake up one day and decide to go hurtful on their loved ones. But that’s not usually the case, at least it isn’t for me. It is a battle between doing what’s right or succumbing to the evil side that’s occasioned by depression. And ultimately, that evil side wins. Especially if those who love you fail to understand what you’re going through.

I try to think about what might have caused this recent attack… I probably already know how it rolls. I suspect that my depression is recurrent. It starts and ends at certain times of the year. But does it start this early, and become worse towards the beginning of the year? I don’t know.

But here is to hoping that I will have a tighter handle on it this time. I am not letting this bitch bring me down.

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