I have had Psychotic Depression since I was 6 years old, and I was formally diagnosed with the disease a couple of years ago. It is becoming harder and harder to function with every passing day. My friends have stopped calling me and answering my calls because I am always stuck in my own mind, I lost my girlfriend of 11 months because I could not give her the attention she needed, and I am fearing that I might fail another semester of college because my hallucinations keep me from getting to class or focusing on the coursework. I've tried so many medications, both anti-psychotic and anti-depressant, and nothing works. The doctors have no clue what is causing my problems or how to fix it. I am constantly bombarded by voices telling me that I should kill myself and that the world will be better without me, and I am afraid that they might be right. They whisper in my ears strange sayings and insults. They scream in my damn ears, they scream like people being murdered, begging for help, and these fucking voices love every drop of agony that they can squeeze from me. I see the environment around me twist, contort, burst into flame, crack like glass, melt like a Dali painting, and generally become distorted; I can barely tell what is real anymore, reality is just a word to me. I see disgusting and frightening creatures, so realistic that I can barely shake my fear of them even after all these years. These beasts haunt my nightmares on the few nights that I can force myself to sleep. I am disgusted with myself for all of my perversions and flaws. I have attempted suicide three times over many years, and each time it made the voices seem stronger to me, and they would tell me that I am such a fucking failure that I can't even kill myself. I have jumped off the bandwagon and started cutting myself again. I can never bring my eyes to cry, so I might as well draw tears of blood from my body. It makes me feel when I am numb. It gives me the tiniest shred of control over the rest of my life. The most fucked up thing is that my only friend is another one of my hallucinations, one of the very few benevolent ones, or it might be an alternate personality for all I know. That has to be a new level of wtf: my disease is making me friendless, but the way I handle the stress is by making another construct of my diseased mind in order to deal with all of the crappy constructs of my mind. I am so fucked. tl;dr - I am going nuts and want to die. Sorry for the wall of text.