Depression spiral.

Do you know why depressive states are so fucking scary? Because not only do you not know where the exit is, people who haven't ever struggled with something even midly similar will never understand the severity of it. Therefore you stay there, on a loop, repeating the ups and downs all over again no matter what is happening to your life, no matter how good or bas it is. And it's fucking destroying you. You know those TV commercials about antidepressants, don't you? When the person is sitting there and everything is just becoming gray around them. And the sad thing? You know that it's exactly the truth and it pains you. Because your friend sitting beside you is laughing and making jokes at stupid ads like that. And you probably laugh along even. And then you cry in the shower, in bed, alone in the kitchen, while looking at the boiling water that you were supposed to unfreeze your dinner in but you just... can't.

Do you know why self-hatred and self-harm are so fucking scary? Because people for some reason assume "it's just a stupid teenage thing, no adult would ever cut their flesh because they have it oh so bad" but the truth? The truth is that yes, there is a lot of kids who do it for attention. But even so? If someone needs attention badly enough to cut their flesh and put the pictures of it on the internet then clearly that should indicate that they need some support, not being fucking laughed at?
And those people need help, but won't get it, because apparently it's not a problem to people. It's just teenage stupidity. Parents saw this person cut their wrists, then they saw them hide it under bracelets and sleeves, but parents did nothing, just told them to stop because it's stupid. But that person didn't because they didn't know how. They believed their parents and other adults, that it was just something that stupid teenagers do, they assumed it'd go away. Because it would once they becamse an adult, right? But it doesn't just go away. Now this person is a full grown adult, living in their own flat, having a good job in their field of studies and nodoby at the office can have any idea that under those nice jeans there are legs covered in scars and few cuts that were done just last night in the shower and were still bleeding once they were leaving home for work in the morning.

Anxiety? You cannot do it. That's it. But they don't understand. They think you don't want to. But you can't. And that's the truth, there's nothing more here to say, you know it. But they don't. And that's why they don't believe you. "Just do it".

Even if you know you should get help, you never do. And then you don't even remember that the way you feel is not normal. You just walk though life like a corpse.

But then something happens that makes you happy, so happy that you grow anxious and depressed about it, because you hate yourself and you didn't deserve the good that happened.
And then you're there again. In the shower, crying, cutting your legs when you have to get up in the morning and be a proper adult. And you do it, because you have no other choice. Up and down the spiral, but never out of it.