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Leah Carr Nov 2020
To those who think depression is selfish,
A person will say they are fine
When they're on the absolute brink
Because they don't want to be a burden
They think you matter, but they don't
They care about your wellbeing
Much more than their own
Doesn't that mean something to you?

To those who think suffering is selfish,
A person will push forward sometimes purely for others' sake
They get up every morning
When they feel like crying
They keep on fighting
When they feel like dying
And not for their own benefit
But for yours
Doesn't that mean something to you?

To those who think suicidal feelings are selfish,
A person convinces themselves that their loved ones wouldn't care
If they were gone
Because they can't cope with the idea of others hurting
Like they are now
They face their own pain every day
But can't face the idea of you going through what they are
Doesn't that mean something to you?

To those who think suicide is selfish,
A person often kills themselves thinking that their loved ones
Will be relieved that they are gone
Will be glad to have the weight lifted
They believe that suicide is the selfless option
They are doing what they think is best for you
Because they care
Doesn't that mean something to you?

To those who think depression is selfish,
I'm telling you now,
It isn't.
Be grateful you do not understand.
I cried and cried
"I can't say it"
"Yes you can. Say: "I'm perfect"
I cried some more and tried to force the words to form in my mind.
"Say it!" He said once more, "Say it because you are perfect. Dont listen to yourself. You're lying to yourself."
Eyes squeezed shut, I forced out the words:
I am perfect.

It takes a lot out of a person to see their self worth after so many years of not believing it due to abuse. Mental, verbal, maybe even physical. It takes a lot to try and not lie through your teeth to someone who loves you, to admit, you are, in fact, perfect.

It takes a lot of a person to stand in front of the mirror and look at oneself. To look at the body your soul resides in and think "I am perfect" after years of being told that you're too this and you're too that.

So I implore you, believe that you are perfect. Cry if you must, but look at yourself, really look, and believe it when someone says that you are, in fact, perfect. That person would not love you otherwise. You are you, and they love you for that.
I cannot stress it enough: mental health can be affected in so many different little ways, and finding someone that loves you and only sees the good in you does help. Overcoming our fears and hurt is so difficult, but it helps lift the load a little each time we are reminded of how appreciated we are - from the right people.
Louise Feb 2019
last night he whispered to me softly
“i can’t do this anymore.”
i asked him what was wrong
his answer was everything
i had never expected him to say.
we sat down and talked
about life for the longest time.
and after that conversation,
he told me he was okay again.
little did i know, he wasn’t fine at all.

because when i woke up this morning,
i saw his cold and pale body
lying on that bed.
now the only question that keeps
running through my mind is:
what if i stayed up all night?
i can’t help but blame myself
and i know that’s not right.
but the **** thing is,
i couldn’t see through his lies.
i should’ve seen it in his eyes,
that something clearly wasn’t right.

l. h.
Louise Feb 2019
My heart is racing
My mind’s going crazy
I can feel myself sinking
deeper and deeper into this
black hole that’s called depression.

I wish I could ‘just snap out of it’
like everyone tells me to do.
But if I could, it wouldn’t have gotten
this bad in the first place.

I need someone to listen
The problem is that I never
learned how to speak, and
the people that are all around me
can’t hear my silent screams.
Gianna Jan 2019
In my veins, my blood runs free, but it's secretly still trapped inside me.

Inside my veins,I can feel it boil,silently screaming to be saved, to breath  fresh air in a different way.

A simple razor will make it.

The adrenaline I feel replaces all the bad.

It makes it all,in a twisted way, good for a minute.

The blood keeps on coming.

My hearts pounds against my chest, constantly afraid of being caught.

It feels like a drug.

A drug that lasts short periods of time, but is satisfying.

— The End —