I sat on that couch,
Sipping tea that made me gag, too sweet,
Feeling the the small blade in my back pocket,
Weighing me down, pulling me in,
And I cried.

"You're not depressed"
How would you know how I feel?
"Just a hormone imbalance"
You're not a doctor... I've only said a sentence.
I only said Four Words
I
Think
I'm
Depressed

You don't know the numbness drawing me in
You don't know how I can't feel my wrists
You don't know I'm almost constantly nauseous
You don't know how I wake up in the middle of the night crying
You don't know how I shake uncontrollably in fear when I think
You don't know how I can't look in the mirror without hating what I see
You don't know how I scream into my pillow, scared of myself and terrified of everything else

You just don't know.

How can you?