Steph

I have two black dogs. Sometimes I only have one. But once I see one, I now the other one will shortly follow. I don't always have the Black dogs with me. Some days I feel completely weightless, like I'm not carrying a burden. But then they will come back, mid-laugh, mid-sentence. I'm so used to the Black dogs being around that it seems normal for them to be there. I wish they would die and never return. But they can not be killed.

The Black dogs' names are depression and anxiety. Although I am their owner I have no control over them. They are constantly barking, confusing me. I can't think with them barking so loudly. The shame of owning these Black dogs is real. I feel like they are a sign of weakness. I don't want anyone knowing I have these Black dogs. Especially dogs I can't control. When I see friends, I put the music on loud, so they can't hear the Black dogs. I pull the curtain, so they can't see the Black dogs. I am so busy worrying about people seeing the Black dogs, so worried the Black dogs will escape and bite someone that I give up trying. I isolate myself, wanting to be alone.

The dogs take over everything in my life. Everywhere I go, I go there with a sad face and scars on my arm. Even when I close my eyes, the Black dogs are there, waiting. Waiting for a time to follow me and ruin my day. The Black dogs stop me from sleeping and take up all my time.

The Black dogs make me hate myself, they make me not care about anything. They make me slice open my arm. Just so then I can control something. Even if I'm only controlling pain...

People who come over, I push away because I don't want them to see the real side of me; the pain, the stress and shame that I am feeling. If people see the dogs I get defensive. I reassure people that "I am okay" and that "I'm fine". But I am not. I'm the opposite.

All the things I used to enjoy are now pointless. The dogs distract me and ruin everything surrounding me. They make things that should be enjoyable, not enjoyable. I don't want anyone to be affected by me having the Black dogs. This is why I hide them.

Most days I just want to end it all. I want to live without the Black dogs, or at least be able to fully control them, so then I can be happy. So then not everything will seem pointless.

The saying is not true, there is no such thing as a light at the end of a tunnel...

The Black dogs have introduced me to their friends Ana and Mia. Ana and Mia have tricked me. Tricked me into thinking that following them was the right thing. Tricked me into thinking they were my friends. That they could actually help me become skinny. To become pretty. All they have done is created a monster. That monster, is me.

Everyday it is just a cycle of missing meals, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. I can't deal with this anymore. Life is just too hard.

Everybody tries to understand. But nobody truly understands me. Nobody understands the pain and confusion that Ana, Mia and the Black dogs put me through. Nobody. Understands. Me.

The four dogs control my life. People are starting to notice. They try to help. But it doesn't. I can't be helped. The dogs have done too much damage...

I decided that my life was no longer a point. That I should die. I decided to overdose.

I took 37 pills. I ended up in hospital. In the hospital I was unconscious. I wasn't happy. But I wasn't sad. I was free from everything.

I have tried recovery. But it is just so hard. Every thought that goes into my head is negative. I just can't do this anymore. I just can't.