Drowning in a Sea of Depression

Disclaimer: It's all in the title. If you're looking for laughs move on sweet shepherd; Fluffy white sheep cannot be found here.

I find it ironic that this "Flushed" character is more me than I am.  Here on the internet under a veil of anonymity I can be me. It is not to say it is easy. There are times when I am self-conscious, embarrassed, or scared to post certain things. But again, I believe that this is me. There are times when I can't even bare to look in the mirror. There are truths about myself that I try and forget––stuff it into a little box in my mental attic and proceed with my regular programming. There are sometime where I want to cry at the mere thought of me. (This may or may not be one of those times.)

It may not seem that this is the case; my posts have been quite sparse as of late. In all honesty, this is paralleled of me in the flesh. I have checked out of the world. I tweet and reply to text that come from fellow blogesses (bloggers sounds too masculine). Those who I have clinked drink glasses with, however, their texts go ignored.

I am ashamed and embarrassed to be me. I bailed out on my friends bachlorette party because I am fat, ugly, and I cannot bare to be seen. To be spoken with. It's written all over me that I am depressed. I spend my days bingeing and purging; productivity is just a word in a dictionary. There is much to do. Too much. It overwhelms me. I am drowning in To Do Lists and I have no will to swim. Floaties only go so far. I'm just waiting to drown. I don't want to participate in this game called LIFE.

Everyday that I wake up I resent the fact that I am alive. A better person deserves my life. The people in my life deserve a better me. 

(I'm not going to go the suicide route or anything; it's just a thought I seem to entertain. I'm still hoping there is a rainbow and pot-o-gold waiting for this dark and dreary weather to pass. *fingers crossed*)