Why do I get out of bed

My body wants to keep going but my mind does not. Or are they both the same thing. Overall a body that complains a lot with a mind that complains the most. Maybe they both just don't want to go anymore. Or is the reason I feel this way must be because I'm running with a broken engine. Just going in circles wondering why. What is wrong.

Nothing is wrong, I'm perfectly healthy. Yet I can't function. The horn doesn't work and the wheels don't turn. No matter how much gas you put in it he won't go and you magically find he is out of gas again. Gets 1 mile to the gallon.

No one would want to mess with such a junker. Unless they are into broken down cars that they can look into for spare parts.

...

A very deep pit of loneliness that I can't seem to escape from. Yet. I continue to dig. If I dig enough perhaps I will come out on the other side and see the light again. Or more realistically would I burn up half way through upon reaching the core? Perhaps I am already at that stage where I start to burn and fall apart.

Hey Stein,
I have days exactly like that. Where i start with a little gas in the tank and it quickly depletes. Around here, we care very much for you. Depression always lifts, but it may take time. Talk to us...you know how many are going thru the same thing.

What do you mean by "talk to us"? I keep hearing things like this yet I don't understand.

I think that is a suggestion to join a chat room; or continue to reply to this post and "talk" it out through typing. I know that I've had some help with private messages to other members on these pages and in this community. The "talk to us" is also a suggestion to keep coming back here to get help.

I already use the chat room a lot though.

I find it hard to talk about myself overall because I draw nothing but blanks. Just a lot of blanks about my life. What I do. Where am I going. What I want out of life. I have desires I guess. I feel like they are unreachable for someone like me. It's what brings about depression. Yet I can't clear the snow so it just builds up and up and up. Crushing. A suffocating loneliness that comes from someone who manages to step on any opportunity because they are afraid; too cowardly to make a life for them-self. A person that breaks their own heart and then continues to grind it into the floor to see it squirm in agony.

"Please please get off of me I can't take anymore", but it continues on.

On and on and on and on and on.

Life isn't a competition. It shouldn't be but it is. Sure if I lie to myself I can make myself feel better. That I am going at my own pace. Absolute zero progress everyday. I am too cowardly for progress. Too lazy. I hope that maybe I can just slap myself with a diagnosis of some sort and that will explain everything. It won't. The simple answer is that I am dumb cowardly and lazy. The triforce of failure all in one person. That is all there is to it when it comes to someone like me.

I don't really expect help here. Just a place to talk with people who probably won't belittle and attack me as much as other places. Getting help is sort of a dying idea for me. Finding people like me. Impossible. Either way I find my jealousy to be devastating to any possible human bonding.

I think "talking to us" is what you are doing. That takes a lot of courage even if it is anonymous.

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It's been awhile since I started using internet forums and I still get scared when I wake up in the morning to read posts on them. They can cause me significant stress just thinking of people responding to whatever I wrote yesterday. I'm rather sensitive to criticism I realize. Negative remarks.

Being alive feels embarrassing.

I feel stained with embarrassment. I made a poem about it. Not sure anyone actually wants to read it though.

Why is it so hard being alive. Not like I have a hard life or anything. I didn't exactly draw a bad hand. I just can't play the game. Constantly feeling pathetic. This constant embarrassed feeling because of how bad I am at this game. I can't connect with anyone.

No friends. People dislike talking to me or just plain hate me without having to talk. Siblings don't like me. Parents probably don't like me. Probably ashamed of me. The ugly duckling.

Getting asked about my life is embarrassing and overall fills me with shame.

If I were dead I would probably be embarrassed because I would get asked what did I do with my life and I would say the same answer I do now. "Nothing."

It felt like it was just Christmas but now it's nearing the end of August. Time is burning from both ends for me and nothing has changed. I am filled with a great fear seeing how fast time is going for me. Soon it will be Christmas again and it will be exactly the same as last year. Exactly. The. Same. I feel like I should make a pledge with myself that if it is still exactly the same by the Christmas after next...

A Deadline

...

I guess that is a little too flexible perhaps with time. Perhaps shorten it to this Christmas is my deadline for getting something achieved. Nothing will though. "oh quitting before you start?" Sort of I guess.

I hate myself.

I don't know why I get out of bed either. It took me 4 hours to get out of bed, I woke up at 7 AM, but my mind just wanted me to go back to sleep, because every day is the same, it doesn't seem to be getting any better. I finally woke up at around 1 PM, because I HAVE to. Not because I want to.

Time just flies, I'm not ready, I want to live my life at a very slow pace, but I'm forced to run at uncomfortable speeds, because time waits for no one.

I have desires too, but they're not achievable tomorrow, It will take time and effort and I need to be able to handle criticism for that too, three things I'm not very good at is patience, hard work and criticism. I'm uber sensitive.

I don't know why I wake up either.... maybe it's because I don't want to end things, I'm alive because I don't want to die, not because I want to live. There's only two choices, maybe there's still some hope inside me that I don't know of.

I can't even make friends online, why would someone want to listen to my troubes anyway? My mom doesn't hate me, but she prefers that I not talk to her, even though she won't say it.. but I've realized recently that I want my mom to be a little happier, and the only way I can do that is by not spreading my misery to other people.

Yeah sleeping is a problem of mine. Though it's not really a problem because I don't have anything to do. Or want to do even. The criticism of others makes me not want to try ever.