Pain

it's tiring, yet i forced myself up. people call me lazy and slacking off from work. my energy drains because of the use of anti-depressants. despite having some good improvements, there are bad improvements as well. even if they made me lose my memory, even if they made my head rest, i'm still that mentally sickly person. i get to tired easily. i can't have a day me off. i can't get a day off just to regain myself back. i struggled every single day to get out from bed and do small task. every move i made, every steps i take, every energy i drains, every types i type, every word i say, it drains me completely. it made me gain weight and made my self-esteem even worst. it made me hate my body so much. it made me disgusted by how i look. it made me wonder the food i ate. it makes me angry. 

i'm tired. i sleep too much or i don't sleep at all. i rather die out of lack of sleep or by terminal illness rather than living my life in hell. you could say that i'm ungrateful over the life that God has given me. if only you were in my shoes, you would understand why i desperately wanted to end my life. it's not about the ungratefulness, it's about the mental pain and the physical pain. the pain that has no cure, the pain that would frighten me all the time. the pain that coexist with my daily life. the pain that got me in severe mental pain. the pain that completely changed me into a different person.