The empty loneliness and confusion of a warped mind. That was damaged by years of self-destructing chaos, flooded with memories of a childhood not lived. Every day is a struggle. My mind fights the new way of life. It doesn’t understand why I don’t use the medication it’s so used to having. It helped numb the overwhelming sadness and pain that consumed my every thought. Nightmares disrupt my sleeping, drenched in sweat, and I awake to a panic attack driven by the idea he’s still alive. The immediate concern of if dad is okay. It takes time to process the fact that he is already gone. When my mind finally focuses and returns to reality, the depression creeps in. It’s a constant roller coaster of emotions and feelings throughout every day. Suicidal thoughts increase daily due to the brain’s lack of understanding of this new way of living. It tells me I’m weak and worthless and then destroying any glimpse of hope. My only outlet is to help others and try to catch them before it’s too late before they feel how I feel and felt. Every person I talk to is a branch of my life. I have been through so much I can feel their pain in every word they say. I can feel the loneliness, the self-hate, and the hopelessness through the phone. The fear of judgment and not being understood makes their isolation from the world a priority. My heart goes out to them. Their pain and sadness are becoming them. It overtakes their life and determines the outcome of each day. All I can think is that I need to help them before they become me. My depression fights me every, day but I’m becoming used to the pain. I do what I can to curb the feelings with help from my support team, but the pain never leaves the sadness hides in the pit of my stomach, waiting to unleash again. Every day is a new battle, and every day is new hope for someone else struggling. I hope they reach out and ask for help. I hope they know they are not alone.