Feeling weird

Been a couple months now. Feels weird to type this out, let alone post. Started with random panic attacks and extended episodes of DPDR. Saw a shrink, tried medications. Spent a week at a mental asylum as well. Every doctor’s visit, my antidepressant gets bumped up a notch, but I feel nothing. I’m too many different things—a cynic, a sceptic, a nihilist. Needless to say, I don’t have anyone to share this with. Well, tried, but was of no avail. Last night was supposed to be it. I headed out with the means and intention of doing it. I couldn’t, I simply couldn’t. All that, the theatrics, for nothing. Like a coward, I returned home at 2 am. Wanted to go out again tonight; again, I couldn’t. Don’t want to live, don’t want to die, this is a weird headspace to be in. Help is a lie, there really isn’t one. You verbalise it, you’re either handed off to the next person in the name of crisis management, or it’s shrugged off. Who do I even blame for this? I want to someone to see this, tell me that they understand, maybe validate my feelings and comfort me. What really have we built here? Your autonomy to live and die is for a paradigm to decide.