I am afraid to live, and scared to die. However, I still seem to be here, after my earlier threads. My feelings of self-destruction are constantly on my mind. I have sufficient awareness to realise I need help. After a failed attempt in May, which resulted in hospitalisation, I was given the contact details of a therapist. I didnt follow up for weeks and weeks. My mind, due the depression, is most days in a form of fog, and seems to run much slower than I am used to. Anyway, I am conflicted with my lack of success in contacting the therapist. I know she is busy, and overworked, and I feel that I am being selfish asking for help. I am aware that there are others out there who perhaps need her help more than I do. This sends me into the low self-esteem/ low self-worth tailspin that maybe my problems arent as important and therefore shouldnt try to call her again. Then, because she is busy, I get into the muddle of imagining I am just another number that she has to endure in her busy schedule. It makes me feel an insignificant cog in this big therapy machine. This also makes me feel worthless and insignificant and irrelevant. I need help, but I dont feel worthy enough to ask or demand help. I am back where I was. Lonely, disconnected, isolated. Quietly desperate.