we all live in closets. somewhere we don't want to escape from because we think it's more comfortable than what is on the other side of that door. we all have something we want to say but don't know how to say it. something we're not sure anyone would understand but us. our walls are a barrier. and i know these barriers keep us safe where no one could hurt us but ourselves, though they also limit us. i have a barrier between my mind and human interaction. nothing i think seems to get out of my tounge well enough for anyone to understand it. when you tell someone you suffer, he or she probably would think of it as something immense you're going up against when trying to fight your way through it. when you tell people you suffer (if you do tell them, that is.), depression is not what they expect rolling off your tongue. because most people don't think it's serious ENOUGH. you'll try to explain, you'll tell them what it's like in your head.
“well, i feel like my brain holds more weight than it should hold, and all the weight belongs to the thoughts screaming loud in it. the voices dictating how i should feel. how i should react. and my body complies with it.” “it's like, i have my worst enemy trapped in my head. then i realise, my worst enemy is myself..or these thoughts..but myself as well. and do you know how hard it is to fight back against yourself? you don't, ofcourse you don't. i mean you shouldn't know how that feels like. i wouldn't wish that upon anyone..although i wish worse upon myself. i wouldn't mind shredding my skin to pieces but i'd mind hurting others with my words. because no self worth exists, because i can't find it no matter how hard i look and i looked everywhere, but i ran out of locations now. so it's based on how people feel about me. and tell me, who could love someone as troubled as i, when even my own self, has given up on me?” “ah it's like having bruises on the insides of every inch of my body. it's when my blood cells are so focused on healing the ones on the outside they forget that what's on the inside matters as well. IT'S WHEN YOU HAVE SELF-INFLICTED BRUISES. it's when you don't want them to heal. it's when you want to bleed. it's when you don't think it matters. when you don't think, you, matter.” “it's when the sound of death tastes better than your favorite flavor of icecream. it's when you eat to fill your empty spaces, and then throw it up because you're not used to being full even it's only for counted minutes. it's all the days when you don't eat too. all the days when getting out of bed seems too hard of a task to get done with. so when i tell you i'm tired, i don't mean i need to sleep. (although i might need some of that too.) when i tell you i'm tired, know that i mean every step i take away from my bed takes a whole lot of strength i can't seem to find in myself.”
you'd reply with;
“i'm sorry. but you know? it's just because of your environment. and you let things get to you often, don't you think? i mean we all have those days sometimes. i even felt depressed yesterday, myself. but you get over it you know? why aren't you over it? do you pray? no? maybe that's why. okay, it's okay. it'll all be okay once you see things differently. i mean it's all in your head, okay? you need to be more positive, where does all this negativity come from? baby, tired is just a better word for lazy. and you don't want to die, do you? you do? well, you're too young to know what you want anyway. i was like you when i was a kid and look at how i am now happy and well. are you okay, now? you are? okay, cool. nice talking to you.”
and here's what i want to say but don't;
“i'm not sad. i'm empty. i'm not misguided, i know the way. but every way seems to be the wrong way for me to take. i don't lack faith in "god", i lack faith in myself. and i'm not okay, so stop telling me i am. stop telling me it's all in my head, i'm very aware that it is. hence, the "mental" illness. tell me, instead, that you want to hear me talk. tell me you'll listen even when you don't understand. tell me you'll be here even when it might not be enough for me. only a few might understand and i don't expect you to be one of them but just please stay.”
i think i want to stay in the closet for while. uncomfortable over misunderstood, don't you think?