Losing a whole year

For me, depression has been like a head cold. You feel lost, lousy, lazy and limp but you're still able to see past the sickness and know it'll be over soon. Hell, enjoy the ride. The down time. The inspiration. The blues.

It's been about one year now exactly, since, I don't know how to put it, but it's like my lights went out.

It started as a head cold, but when it kept going, I had to give it a bigger cover up illness. Maybe it's my hormones? Maybe it's my gastrointestinal tract coming back to get me after putting it through a decade of starvation and bulimia? Maybe it's...shit, I dunno everything fun and stupid I've done since the age of 16? Maybe, I'm starting believe, I never grew up. Or I did "it" wrong. Whatever the fuck growing up or being a human being is, I apparently did it way wrong.

Because it's been one year and I'm not better. At all. I haven't gained a single ounce of wisdom. I have no freedom from myself. I am locked up.

It's not even Fucking artistic or interesting or beautiful. It's not inspiring. It's become mundane and sick from both ends. Have you seen someone literally, physically, dying and losing control of their body from from both ends? Because I have. And she was making more sense than me. She was dying and her rationale and reasoning behind what was happening to her, makes more sense and has more hope than I do.

And I can't decide if I should publish this because I don't want to raise a red flag or a white one either. I know there's nothing more that can help me by being hospitalized.

My gut, I try to listen, but my gut tells me nothing.

I killed it a long time ago.