I am just so sad. It goes away for an hour here or there, but it always comes back. I'm so overwhelmed it is difficult to even form sentences.

The only thing that keeps me alive is fear of pain and guilt from knowing I would hurt others by ending my life.

Occasionally there is a glimmer of hope. Maybe I can finish this assignment, maybe I can pass the test, maybe I can finish this course. But one course a year, I'd finish university in 15. And if I can't handle more than one course at a time, who knows that I could even handle teacher's college - never mind actually teaching.

If I can't teach my life will seem pointless. It is the only thing that makes me happy, no matter how depressed I am. I love it. Maybe I'll never have kids because I won't have the money to take care of them, maybe I'll never lose all this weight and will cringe every time I look in the mirror for the rest of my life, maybe I'll always be disappointed that my relationship isn't like the magical-perfect-fairytale version I had in my head, that it can't make everything feel ok. But if I could teach, maybe all that wouldn't matter because I would be doing something I was passionate about. But without that, I don't know what is going to get me through the days and years. I wonder if I will never feel really motivated to pursue anything and will just continue to spend as much time as possible alone in bed. I will continue to leech on my father, depending on him to take care of me until he can't. And when he can't, maybe I will feel helpless enough that I'll actually have the strength to end it all.

I'm not really living, I'm just killing time.