This is a confession from the voiceless, the absurd, the depressed, the unheard, the living dead, the lifeless,---a confession from the other side of the glass. As a child, the youngest of four, I was given food, clothing, and shelter. My body was sustained, but my mind was never nurtured. We were poor...and keeping us alive was all that mattered, or so it seemed. I raised myself on the computer. I learned everything about life on my own. I have lived with depression since I was young, though I kept it a secret. I guess I became good at hiding things. I would express it to friends, but I'm not sure they knew how to handle it. I have been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, BiPolar disorder, Depersonalization Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and when I look back on my life, everything makes sense. No one would listen. No one would take me seriously. The past three years, I have been completely numb. I tell myself that suicide is not worth it, and that I do believe. Fortitude is required to traverse the void in which I live. Maybe I say that to keep myself going. I have expressed multiple times to family and friends that I need to see a therapist. No one hears me. I have no voice, it seems. The last year, I have literally only said a few sentences a day. I'm not close to anyone, and I think myself a stranger to those that know me. I know all about them, the Ego constantly speaking of "I." But, my words, they have no force to deliver how I feel or what I need, it seems. I am lifelessly drifting through my own existence, too poor to afford the help that I need. I have studied psychology and philosophy to aid me along this journey. I feel that it is out of my hands. I see all my friends disappearing. I see my family disowning me. There is no help, it seems. I realize how morbid this sounds, but I must say that I am a very peaceful introvert. I couldn't hurt a fly, and I wonder if this is the point when someone would lash out, but I could not do so. I can't take my own life either. I am withering away, and all I have is love for this world. And as my world gets smaller and smaller, I see the help going away, until one day it is just me. Alone. Numb. Voiceless. Unable to live. Unable to die. And I would still love this world, even though it has rejected me, even though help was never received when brought up. And I am not asking you all for help. I'm just asking for someone to hear, to see where I am at, and to tell me that they hear me. I haven't been heard in years it seems. Fading away. I love you all. Please, take care.