Ask Me Now

October 5, 2008
By Anonymous

You don't know me--
You don't even try
Never at home
Never ask why
Ask me please
why I do the things I do
Why I keep to my room,
Why I cut my skin through
but you can't ask
because you don't even know
that every single night
I let my blood flow
So, when I disappear
and then you begin to cry,
It will be too late
for you to ask why.


The author's comments:
I suffer from a bipolar disorder, and I wrote this on December 23, 2007, while I was in one of my most severe depressive phases. Though I may have scars that will forever be a reminder, I was able to prevent myself from committing suicide without the help of antidepressants, medications, and the support that I needed from others. The scars and constant mood swings forced the people I loved to turn their backs on me. I want those, who suffer from depression, to know that all you really need is YOU. Show yourself that you won't be the victim anymore.

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