I am apathetic. I am depressed. I feel as though I bother people because I'm constantly talking about how unhappy I am. I know that there are many things that could be much worse than what I am going through right now, but as the person going through this particular situation at this particular moment in time, it is hard. And I hate it.
I hate feeling like I annoy people. I hate feeling like people are judging me. I hate when people say, "Oh don't worry about what they think!" But I can't. I do worry. I worry more than I should and I know that but that is how I am. You telling me not to worry is like you telling me not to act like myself. And I've already been not acting like myself. And I hate that too. I feel like a shell. I lie to you and say 'I'm fine' when you should know how much I hate that word and see that as a clue. But you don't. And that's fine. Why would you? I'm telling you all the things you want to hear. Smile when I know that I'm supposed to. But inside I feel myself slowly dying, slowly crumbling in this depression.
It's hard to get myself out of bed in the morning. I laid there for almost 5 minutes today staring at the ceiling feeling sorry for myself in the deep recesses of my soul. My soul. I hate coming to this place every day. I hate the weird feeling of oppression that happens when I walk through the door. I hate that just because I'm a woman I'm expected to be a good secretary. I hate that I feel unappreciated and underused in my current capacity. I hate that I know that as long as I stay here I will never grow or learn anything ever again. I hate that I've already lost valuable knowledge and time during the two years that I have been here. I hate that even though you say you understand, I can tell that you don't and you think it's perfectly fine for me to stay here and waste away to nothing. I'm almost at the point that I want to walk away just to leave, but I know you would freak out too much for that to happen, so here I sit. And here I'll stay until one day someone liberates me from this prison.
I hate that I feel like I've lost my spirit. When I was in college I was so alive and eager to learn and do. Now I just want to go home and sit on the couch and not think about anything because thinking brings me back to my real life and how unhappy I am. I hate that I feel fat but I can't get out of bed in the morning with enough time to do my workout. I hate that I feel empty, lost, and confused. I don't know what to do with my life anymore. Grad School? (Will that even help?) Try to find another job that hopefully will be better than this one? (How do I go about doing that per say since the last year of my life has been so successful there?)
I hate that I feel like people don't believe me. I don't know if I'd believe me if I were on the outside looking in. I'm not exaggerating. I'm not prone to hyperbole and when I am, it's obvious. This place is a cancer. A viscous, angry, tumor that crawls inside you and affects every aspect of your life. It's a slow spread, but eventually the illusion of glamour that you're brought in on fades and you're left with tin. No more diamonds for you unless you get an anniversary service pin.
I need out. More than anyone can honestly believe, I'd imagine. It's getting harder and I'm not sure how much longer I can stay strong enough to endure this.
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