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What Depression Feels Like
I may look fine on the outside because I have a smile plastered on my face and because I may look “put together”, but I am not
People assume that if you can’t see the problem, it’s not really there, so
Should I feel sorry for not wearing my pain around like a badge of honor on my chest, but instead hiding it so that only a few know the real me?
Should I feel sorry that I hide it not because I am ashamed, but because people judge what they do not understand?
According to society my pain doesn’t exist unless it’s physical
But I can assure you my pain is worse than anything physical you may have experienced.
It feels like you’re drowning like you are in a pool filled with people but no can see you’re drowning.
It feels like you are in a dark room, with no windows and no doors, and you are given the task of finding a way out using only your hands.
It feels like you are standing next to someone screaming in their ear and they don’t hear a thing.
Depression to me feels like there are constantly nails being dragged down a chalkboard,
like there are constantly a million bugs crawling underneath my skin, trying to make me go crazy.
It feels like no one notices when I have a bad day or do they just choose to ignore it?
Most of the time it feels like my life moves too fast for me to follow,
Like the second I almost reach the line between perfect and disgusting
It moves another million miles away
It feels like it’s my fault,
That if I had been a better daughter or a better kid this wouldn’t have happened to me
Like if I had just ignored it, it would have gone away
It feels like it’s not depression that’s the problem, it feels like the problem is me.
Sometimes I get days where everything seems like it’s going to work out,
And other days it seems like the only problem in my life is me
Some days I want to be surrounded by the people I love and who love me,
And other days it seems like I’m only a burden on them
Some days it feels like it would be easier to disappear,
Like if I did those million bugs crawling under my skin would finally stop
And screaming that no one can hear would be over too
Some days it feels like that isn’t even an option.