Mental breakdown

I need help. I know I need help, I know I need professional help, but I don't want to get help. You can't trust very many people. They screw things up and when you try to explain they don't get it.

My life has been getting progressively worse. More depression, more stress, drifting away from friends, not giving  single shit about anything anymore. Migraines, unfocused head, floating around in space, I can't focus on anything. And then it finally happened. Yesterday I finally snapped. I had a mental breakdown.

I ran around the house, I threw things, I beat things, I cussed things out, I screamed words that I didn't even know existed in my vocabulary. I attacked walls, banisters, anything I could get my hands on.

Afterward, I found myself curled in a ball laying on the cold hardwood floor. I was punching and attacking things within my reach. I was laying there, trying to see through my water-filled, tear-drowned eyes. Ignoring the tears that ran down my face and hit the floor. I screamed, I cried, I yelled, I sobbed. I couldn't catch my breath. I was gulping for air through all of my pain. I couldn't think. I couldn't make sense of how I got this way. It was a nightmare come alive. I was afraid of an invisible monster hiding inside my own head.

I shook my head and I remember sobbing "I don't want to be here." My eyes were puffed up and my face was crimson from screaming and crying. I pushed myself upstairs to my bedroom and changed into pj's. I wanted to give up so bad. I just laid there and cried. I gasped for air, I longed to be rid of the pain I'd been trapped in for so long.

From there I continued to have a meltdown until I fell asleep, cussing out my phone every time it dared to go off. I remember yelling things like "I don't want to be here," and "I hate my life," while the whole time I was thinking "I shouldn't be breathing, I don't want to breathe anymore."

All the thoughts from so long ago came back and consumed my mind.

Now I sit here and wait for the monster to come out again. To eat me alive and know that no one else knows about it except me. Except the creature that lurks in the back of my head; the one who whispers, teasing me daily; the one who makes me gasp for air and sanity to keep from going under. The demon who made me pressure scissors on my leg because it made the pain slide away.

The one I secretly fight; I'm fighting myself.