Laying awake night is probably one of worst things about depression.
Because you’re neither tried or energized.
You just lay there.
Depression isn’t just being sad.
Depression isn’t just sitting at home because your to upset to go out.
It’s so much more.
It’s hard for people to talking about depression.
Just like the incarcerated cousin at family gatherings.
Or the just not so okay uncle that’s a little to close with kids.
But not talking about “it”
Is something you shouldn’t do.
Depression is something that can’t be defined.
It’s like water in a glass.
Shape shifting.
But we all still love and appreciate water?
So why not depression?
Ohh because it changes the loved one?
But what if the loved one really needed you to be there
But instead you ignore them because you think they need space.
Be there. No matter what.
Attempt to talk to them. Don’t push them away
Don’t ignore them when they are screaming for help.
Would you help a loved one if they were in pain?
Or would you just watch them suffer.
That’s what ignoring the topic of depression does.

a striking slice along the creamy white
freckle galaxy that is my thighs

is this what i've become?

a dab of crimson, slow pour at first
then a scarlet waterfall, perfect picture of my pain.

why did i do this

throbbing pain, dulling my senses
my mind is numb, almost at ease.

it hurts, i knew it would

gently easing cotton over wound,
bittersweet burgundy blood, feeding into pristine purity

what have i done

Cuts on my wrists
hands curled into fists
will i even be missed

Writing a note
i wrote
i love you and it wasn't your fault

That's a lie
i want to die and
its partly your fault

I can't tell you that so i
Sit and i cry

Why do i
Live like this

Will i even be missed

I'm tired.
Tired of everything.
I just want to sleep,
And never wake up again.

No, I'm not lazy,
I'm not running away from life.
I'm just tired of the world and myself,
And too tired to change anything.

I used to wonder how people fell asleep in class
Now I wonder how they stay awake

I used to wonder how people failed their classes
Now I wonder how they pass

I used to wonder how people were alone
Now I wonder how they have so many friends

I used to wonder how people were sad
Now I wonder how to be happy

I used to wonder why people cut
Now I wonder how they live without self harm

I used to wonder what it's like to stay up late
Now I wonder what'd it be like to sleep enough

I used to wonder how they thought something was wrong with school
Now I wonder how somebody sees something right

I used to wonder how people want to die
Now I wonder how they stay alive

i have anxiety
undiagnosed.

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.

all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.

i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull

i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.

Please don’t be hurt. Please don’t blame yourself. This is not your fault. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The voices in my head, the emptiness in my heart, the darkness in my body. But I had everything, I know I did. A loving family, a bright future, a promising life.

There was just so much going on inside my head. I felt like I was 10 feet underwater with my feet tied to an anchor that was pulling me down, down, down. I knew I needed to find my way back to the surface but I couldn’t seem to untie myself. My willpower had reduced to nothingness.

You know, I was terrified of mirrors. Every time I looked into them, I felt like I was under a magnifying glass where every single one of my flaws was staring back at me, mocking me. I looked around and saw so much perfection, and my own imperfections made me feel so small. Like I could disappear into thin air and no one would’ve noticed because they didn’t understand, or care. Everyone thought it was easier to pretend I was still the same girl I used to be, when they all knew I wasn’t.

Sometimes, I tried to think back to the exact moment my depression became too heavy to bear and my anxiety became too prevalent to ignore because then I could’ve found a way to retain a tiny shred of who I used to be. Unfortunately, every time I did, I came up empty because it wasn’t a specific time or a certain moment. It was something that developed over time and got to a point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore. There was so much bottled up inside of me and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

Depression slipped into my system, and slowly, it got a little harder to wake up in the morning. I felt like I was moving, but not getting anywhere. Soon I started to feel numb, like nothing mattered in the world. I found that all the things I used to like doing, didn’t bring me joy anymore. Then suddenly I was sitting in my bedroom, alone, wondering how I got to such a dark, sad, empty place and I tried to find a way to make myself feel anything other than this overbearing numbness.

My anxiety came in small bursts. It started off small and barely noticeable, but built up overtime. One day, I was getting overly nervous and scared about a specific situation, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then sometime later, a similar situation occurred and that time, I was sitting on the bathroom floor trying to breathe, telling myself to stop crying. My chest tightened, my vision blurred, my hands and feet went numb and I couldn’t think straight.

In the end, all I was left with was the feeling of wanting it all to go away. But my mental illness was just like a layer of skin: I could never get rid of it.

I know I seemed fine, happy almost. But it was all fake, a simple act I put on each day. I know I should’ve told someone, I know I should’ve reached out for help. I just didn’t want to seem like a failure, I didn’t want people to think I was weak. I was put on a pedestal and I was scared to come down from it. It would have crushed my family to know I wasn’t an intelligent, confident young lady but rather an anxious, depressed freak. But it still isn’t anyone’s fault, it’s mine for caring more about how people thought of me than my own mental health. It just got to a point where there was no other option. Whether I was living or not, I was already gone. There was no soul, no life, left in me. I was just an empty body.

Goodbye.

Jessy