I won’t write and tell you I am fine, because I am not.
It’s easy to see a smile and say she’s happy, but I am not.
And I won’t say that I am not in pain…because I am.
What you don’t understand is that I am scared.
Scared the voice will win.
I am scared that tomorrow is not promised.
I am scared everyday… I am tired every day.
Tired because I only had a good two hour sleep.
Tired because being depressed is just physically, mentally and emotionally draining.
I am tired of people saying tomorrow is a new day, that they will pray for me because only if you knew…
You’d stop fucking talking about how I need to get better for my daughter and how tomorrow is a new day.
I am sick and I am frustrated.
Why don’t you understand that a mental illness isn’t always visible?
Why don’t you understand that I don’t want to kill myself but I also can’t promise that I don’t think about dying every single minute of every day.
The struggle of being myself and being my disorder is a thin line.
It can easily be stepped over and I can easily be pushed.
Please educate yourself before you give me another one liner about how people have it worse.
I am aware there is worse but their pain is not mine.
Please take a walk in my shoes, I wear size eight, mostly converse.
See how long you can fill ‘em.
I bet you won’t finish the day out.
I bet the voice in my head will break you faster than you could ever imagine.
Seriously, imagine when your body, your mind, isn’t on your side.
Why can’t you all see that it’s hard. That I am literally suffering.
My whole life I have fought being what you want me to be, my whole life I grew up thinking I was dramatic…no one thought…no one knew…
So today I won’t tell you I am fine because it is a lie. And today I won’t tell you it’s okay because it isn’t.
I am rightfully angry, I am rightfully sad.
I didn’t ask to be this way, but here I am so instead of getting under my skin and blaming me, try to understand that I don’t want to be like this either.