It only gets worse.
I keep thinking I've hit rock bottom, and then something comes along to slam me even further into the ground. Since 2014, every year has been consistently worse than the last. I've had no choice but to endure, and yet I still keep falling behind and ending up worse off than before. I've lost everything, and there's not even a silver lining where I learned important life lessons or gained anything worth all of the heartache. All I've learned is that the world is harsh and unforgiving, and that people are as well. The people closest to me all left because things got hard, which obviously is my fault because how dare I not be a low-maintenance friend after suffering two major losses in a short space of time, and how selfish was it for me to ask for help from the people who supposedly cared about me. I don't know what else I can do from my end. I have no family left. My friends all gave up the second the opportunity arose. I can't make new friends because I'm still struggling so much that I'd be nothing but a burden to them and I can't inflict that on people. My therapist was a terrible fit because of the intensity and duration of my issues so I stopped seeing her, and I don't know where to find the courage to ask for help again. It's all just... too much, and too often, and too hard. There's barely enough time to catch my breath between tragedies, and now without a support system I honestly don't know how to continue, let alone why I even should. What's the point in fighting through years of grief and pain and loss when my potential's already been reduced to the point that any possible worthwhile future is off the table? Even if I had the inclination to work on healing, not to mention the energy for it, what am I fighting for? It's never going to be good enough to make up for how bad it's been, and it feels pointless to keep trying when things only ever get worse.