A dark cloud named Depression

Today is a down day.

I cried twice in the night for no reason other than I just felt numb.
I don’t really feel anything apart from sadness and anxiety at the moment.
I felt bad when I woke up. I don’t want to live today. 
Every muscle and bone in my body hurts. My head is pounding. I’m exhausted. And I don’t care about anything. I just don’t feel anything. Just pain.
“Do you feel suicidal?”
“Do you feel like harming yourself?”

That’s what I get asked by my GP every damn week.
My answer? Not really.
It seems society rates your depression based on how much you want to hurt yourself, but that’s not how it is.
When I feel really bad I can’t really explain how it feels, it’s a strange feeling.
I just don’t want to exist anymore. I just want someone to flick a switch and make the pain go away.
Because to me depression is so painful – my inability to cope with life and the guilt around feeling so bad makes my heart hurt.
Do I self harm? Officially, no.
But I neglect myself – I let myself dehydrate because I can’t seem to make myself drink; it’s like my mind enjoys making me feel poorly.
I stop eating and then binge. This makes me feel terrible.
Is that not ‘self harm’?
I’m sick of society and it’s guidelines.  
I feel like a fraud every day because I have no reason to be depressed.
“I don’t understand why you feel like you do when you have a lovely life”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just hormones”

“You look okay to me”

I wish I could beat this, once and for all.

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