I feel tired, unimportant, useless, empty and alone. I’m not sure how to cope anymore. I’m back at this dark place; the place I dread the most. And I feel like I am no longer able to get out of it.

I’ve had moments where this sadness faded away and I was able to feel emotions that I thought had died long ago inside me, but I’ve become paranoid and hopeless, and even the idea of perspective doesn’t help me. I try counting all the good things in my life: I have shelter and food and a family, yet all of that pales in comparison to the fact that I am alone and ill.

But I will keep fighting, because one day, I want to help others like me, and one day, I want to be able to hold somebodies hand and tell them that there is a way out.




Instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.


believe in sherlock.
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