battling depression

I’m exhausted.  That’s an understatement.  I get through the day, just barely.  I wonder if the next day will be any easier to get through than the day I’m going through now.  I know it won’t be.  But I make it through anyways.  It’s hard to concentrate.  Hard to not cry.  Hard to live. 

My birthday is coming up soon.  I will be 31.  What do I have to show for my life?  Not much.  Right now I’m trying to rebuild my house that got flooded.  No kids.  No accomplishments.  No nothing.  I still am deeply depressed.  I don’t know how – or better yet – why I go on to the next day.  It’s a scary feeling wondering if the next day I will be alive for.  But at the same rate, it is a peaceful feeling.  I am at peace with dying.  I know that might not make sense to some people; or downright scare them, but it is a peaceful feeling knowing that if things got so bad that I didn’t feel like I could make it through the day, that I have a way out. 
The stress is starting to get to me.  I have to be strong though.  You know, I’m me, and “me” is supposed to be strong.  No matter what I go through, I have to be very strong.  I don’t want to be strong anymore.  I want someone to be there for me.  I want someone to hold me when I cry and not judge.  Maybe that is too hard of a request.  I don’t want them to tell me everything is going to be ok, because, well, it’s not.  Maybe that is too pessimistic of a viewpoint, but why should I be optimistic?  What “proof” do I have that life will get better.  Yeah, we will recover from this; the house will be done, everything paid off.  But how do I know something worse isn’t going to come along? 

All I want to do anymore is cry.  Life is stressful.  And hard.  People tell me that God won’t give me more than I can handle.  That’s hogwash.  I can’t handle this.  The flood.  The feelings.  The wanting to die.  I can’t do it anymore.  I wonder what God does to failures like me.