The biggest lie depression ever told me was: My life will end in suicide, it’s just a matter of time. And that lie became my truth, it became my identity, it was the root of so many other lies.
It’s still a belief I very much struggle to let go of. For the last 10 years, I’ve believed that to be true. And I’ve lived my life like it was.
I’ve never really cared about my future or thought about it. In my mind, I wouldn’t be alive for it anyway. I never set goals or had dreams; what was the point if I was going to die soon?
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