What I need you to understand is that my depression is not just a blanket of sadness laid on top of me.
It is a snowball effect of years worth of disappointments and self judgment .
Piling one traumatic event upon another.
Slowly immobilizing me and holding me captive inside my own mind.
Finding no light underneath the avalanche.
Understand that simple exercise and sun cannot fix this.
This is forever imprinted onto my mind.
Understand… please
for me…

Sometimes I sleep with the lights on so the darkness doesn’t consume me.
So the darkness within my mind doesn’t leak it’s way into the outer world  and mesh into depressive thoughts racing around my room and not only in my mind.
This darkness is far more terrifying then any childhood monster could be.
Creeping it’s way into my bed and luring me to sleep only to terrorize me in my dreams.
Whispering in my ear how worthless I am and now I should continue to sleep forever.
My depression is my boogey man.
Terrorizing me at night when it knows I’m the most vulnerable.
This is why I sleep with the lights on most nights.

Ana has made her debut once again.
Telling me that I’m not
pretty enough.
skinny enough.
worth enough.
All I want is to look like other girls around me.
To grasp the affection from lovers.
But how do I expect myself to grasp love if Ana is taking every ounce of myself with her.
I don’t even have the strength nor energy to grasp the protein shake that’s been flung right in front of me.
I know Ana is toxic but yet her burning words sound so sweet.
Too sweet.
Her burning words keep me burning countless calories.
Giving me only enough energy to listen to her.
Ana has made her debut once again and I am once again begging her to leave.

“Don’t cross oceans for people who wouldn’t cross a puddle for you” they say but how do I tell them that that’s all I’ve ever known. Is to push myself beyond my limits for those around me. To be nice. To be compassionate. To be there. I would do anything for someone to cross waters for me but yet crossing a simple puddle is “too hard” for them. Too much effort. Too big to ask for. But when will it finally be my turn for someone to come swimming out to me in this dark depressing ocean?