"Why can't you hear me?"
"Why can't you just listen?"
"Why can't you hear me and why can't you just listen?"
I can't listen because anxiety is stuck between the teeth in my mouth and can't you hear the depression ripping the wallpaper?
"No, I can't. You shouldn't be so silly and you should stop being a child."
I can not stop being a child when I was always told to never grow up because I wouldn't make it.
And you... were right. I won't make it. Depression will continue to be there to tell me no matter what I wear, I will be ugly.
Anxiety will always be there to tell me that my decision is wrong.
No, I shouldn't do that.
No, they don't like you.
No, they do not care.
Even though they will call themselves friends and family...
They will never listen to what depression as a hobby.
And they will never know how the anxiety will affect every action you make to the point where it tells you not to breathe any longer because the people near you will scatter away just like... everyone did.