I remember one of my favorite authors said in a book,
“Depression has been likened to both a black cloud and a black dog”.
But I also feel that if that black cloud of depression has been looming around you for long enough, it can take the form of another thing, you.
This other person follows me around everywhere, they take the form of me and they become me.
But it’s not me.
But nobody seems to be able to tell.

When people ask me, “hey are you okay?”
I just want to scream “no! I’m not! ...I’m ...not.”
But it just pushes me aside and says, “yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Depression is like hide-n-seek at first. I didn’t want to be anyone’s problem so I just hid and when they found me I just used the most basic excuses, which somehow always get by.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
But now I want more than anything for someone to notice me, to ask me again after I say I’m fine and say, “are you sure?”
But it just hides me in a corner closet, under a pile of shoes and coats. I’ll never be found.
It’s good and hide-n-seek.
I’ll just stay here, curled up in a ball crying while it takes over my life. It’s not me, but it is.
It’s another version of me.
The one that is so fake but everyone thinks is real.
The one who smiles while I secretly frown.
The one who laughs while I cry.
The one who eats while I starve.
The one who sleeps while I’m wide awake at night.
The one who everyone thinks is me.

While it walks my school schedule I’m walking the wire.
Staring into the deep abyss wondering what life would be like if I was gone.
I’m conjuring up fantasies where I suddenly disappear, get sick, or **** myself, wondering what would happen...
And it’s writing stories about little kids, dogs, or love, and hands them to the teacher.

Now I’m at the edge of the cliff.
Teetering back and forth between life and death.
And someone sees me.
“Hey, are you okay?”
But it— Me, I, just say,
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep that well last night.”
This is a lie, but it’s not too far from the truth.
Every night I crawl into bed, knowing that I won’t be falling asleep for a few hours
So I just stare at the ceiling, wondering about everything out there
Wondering who, if anyone is thinking about me.
Wondering if there is someone else out there, unable to sleep.
Wondering if anyone has noticed what I’m going through.
Wondering why I can’t just say “no, I’m not okay” when people ask.
Why is that one word so hard to get out?
Why can’t I reach out to people for help or at the very least say no when they ask if I’m okay?
But then I realize why.
It’s holding me back, it covers my mouth, it speaks for me.
“You don’t want to be their burden, you don’t want to make your problems theirs too,” it whispers to me. “You can deal with this yourself.”
So I do. I try.
But I still find myself teetering over the edge every day.
Crying silently because others are in the house.
Dying on the inside but smiling on the outside.
Staring at the ceiling at night because you can’t bother the others for help with your sleep.

Suddenly I find myself over the edge but I scrambled and grabbed onto a branch.
Did I fall? Was I pushed? Did I jump?
Somebody else noticed but I still smiled anyway and told them I was fine.
I can do this. It’s not that bad. I’m fine by myself. I don’t need to bother anyone.
I find myself falling again.
Did I slip? Was I pulled down? Did I let go? I don’t know.
Will somebody be there at the bottom to break my fall?
And if there is someone there,
Do I want them to?