I suppose this image won't make much sense if you don't follow my work diligently, and I know I don't make it easy because I'm always deleting the blurbs I write in my descriptions. I know it's an insecurity issue and that I don't try hard enough not to care what people might think of me if I leave my life out there for just anyone to read. It's like I can't tell anyone how I feel, but I need someone to know. I always just hope my images will speak for me.

I'm not a poet or a novelist. I wish I could make a single profound statement that would sum it all up.

I suffer from major depressive disorder. I stopped taking my medication six months ago because I couldn't afford to be on it (among other reasons) and I wanted to give myself a fair shot at "doing it myself." I haven't felt this low in two years. I don't like talking about this but it's all I think about. I'm stuck with the voice in my head telling me I'm worthless, disgusting, stupid, ugly and that I should do everyone a favor and kill myself. I wake up every morning and I want to scream. It feels like whoever I am is trapped inside this dying carcass. I feel the rage in my chest and I want to rip at my skin. It's crippling most of the time. I don't even know where I found the will or the energy to make this image today. But then it got me thinking about how stuck in a cycle I really am. I can't escape it. This is who I am. Always relapsing. Medications can only mask it. Suppress it. I will feel this way until the day I die.

Before...
And before that...

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