Scars

 

Depression is so glamorize these days that it can't be seen for what it really is;

An endless dark pit that never stops once you stop falling into it.

Depression is knowing people talk about you behind you back and still be forced to put up an unbothered smile so much that years later even the slightest whispers will have your skin crawling and your mind running with anxiousness.

Depression is sleeping thirteen long hours and still being as tired as the hour you went to sleep or maybe it's the nights where you toss and turn until the pillow is no longer cold and your eyes cannot shut and you're staring at the ceiling, making odd shapes out of the darkness until the sun wakes up and chases them away.

Depression is having a fear of closed spaces; claustrophobia that never goes away no matter how much you teach your lungs to breathe, to inhale and exhale, to count up to ten.

Depression is trauma that takes time to heal, scars never really dried up, cut still bleeding a little, that loud noise inside your head when all is quiet,the demons under the bed that lure you with their colorful words.

But I cannot explain it so beautifully to someone when asked why I'm depressed...I get tongue tied and my anxiety is triggered.

How can someone understand me when they can't feel so deeply what is wrong with the world....the one I had built up around me?.