confessions of a depressed female

The number 4

Hell a four letter word. It’s also a name for the place I’m trapped in right now. Four walls no door that’s what it feels like, four indestructible structures. Nowhere to go, no place to escape to. The floor is covered in egg shells and any movement only breaks them more. Awakening the beast just outside awaiting my downfall. No escape in sight and even when one does present itself it’s only a sick trap made by the beast to trap me more. Four years I spent patiently waiting for release doing the beasts’ every wish and command putting up no fight or struggle. Four times I’ve tried, four times I’ve thought I’ve found release, escape. Four times I’ve been proven wrong. Four times I’ve stared in the beasts’ eyes and begged for forgiveness. Four days I’ve spent awake crying trying to battle the demons that visit me at night. Four days is all it took for everything around me to crumble to the ground. Everything but these four walls. These four walls made of indestructible material forever trapping me in this eternal hell. Four the unluckiest number of all, the number responsible for my demise. Four more years I must wait, four more long unpleasant years I must sit within these four walls. 32.4 cycles of 45 days filled with 4 million seconds of pain and entrapment within these four walls. So many things have to do with the number four. Four the number of people in my family, the number of schools I’ve been to, the number of friends I’ve had. Four the number of letters in words like hate, pain, rage, evil, life, live, lose, all words to describe me and the way I feel. Surprisingly enough the real name of the place I’m trapped in as a four letter word as well. (HOME)