I've been struggling with depression since before I ever even heard the word. For as long as I can remember I've felt tired in my bones with an ever-present and indescribable weight on me. It started primarily irrational, because my life realistically wasn't that bad, from my perspective. As things got worse across the board there was logic for it to latch onto and things have gotten progressively worse. I attempted suicide for the first time in my life two years ago at age 29. I went through a whole pack of razor blades and none were sharp enough to actually cut skin. I ended up tearing more than actually slicing. The scars are barely noticeable now. If I had the nerve I would've tried setting myself on fire, but I have an old fear of being trapped in the final moment of my death and that sounds too much like hell for me.

I have people who genuinely enjoy my presence, care, encourage me to seek help, offer help when they can and miss me when I'm not around. I'm confident at this juncture I suffer from some sort of chemical imbalance. Talking doesn't help. It has never helped. I've been two different therapists (which isn't a tremendous amount but that was nearly impossible for me to even manage) and a psychiatrist to no avail. Medication I was given didn't help. I tried to be patient, I always try to be patient even when I'm screaming on the inside. I waited longer than they suggested and when I pointed out there was no change they told me to wait longer. Than upped the dose and told me to wait some more. I got really tempted to just swallow the bottle for the fuck of it, but considering how ineffective it had been and how resistant my body tends to be towards medication in general I figured I'd only get a stomach ache.

I don't have insurance anymore, and I can't afford it. I am scraping by. I have no real savings. I have no safety net. I've been homeless three times already and I am not confident I can bounce back from rock bottom again. I know my truck is getting ready to die so I am hesitant to bet my emergency funds on healthcare. I make "too much" money now for Medicaid, it's the only reason I could see a therapist previously. Yet I can't even afford furniture and soon I'm going to have to move out of this furnished apartment. Please for the love of whatever you believe in don't ask me what I enjoy. If I knew how to fix my problem I'd do it. I've been trying to fix this shit for at least 20 years and I think I did a pretty remarkable job of holding my shit together. My brain is deteriorating. I can't remember shit as well anymore. I can't focus as well as I used to. My energy levels are at an all time low. Sometimes I just stare, knowing full well there's something that was or should be in my brain and I can't even formulate a thought. I've reached out all over the place trying to get help, and the amount of times I've slammed my face into a brick wall is disheartening. I still can't get over being declined help because they were not accepting new clients in the next two weeks (at least), being directed elsewhere then being denied remote assistance because I'm "not a good fit" and then offered no alternative whatsoever. I've genuinely considered going down some less than legal routes to try and find something that might fix my brain only to end up stonewalled there as well.

I have no idea what to do. I'm tired as fuck. I feel no real joy. And the best I can manage is distracting myself long enough to get to work and pretend like I'm not a person anymore. Although I don't even like going to work.

Should I make it to my 33rd birthday with no improvements I don't know how to convince myself to keep going.