they look at me with concern

are you okay

you seem down lately

is something the matter

your writings have been…

well, it seems like something has been bothering you
you write about your depression a lot

why don’t you go out and do something, take your mind off of it

stop thinking about it, take a break and have some fun

it is all in your head, if you stop thinking it you will stop feeling it

you are in control, not depression

have you ever just tried to not be sad

my aunt was depressed, but we knew she was just crazy

are you going to try and kill yourself

why aren’t you on medicine

or going to therapy

thank you everyone for all the great suggestions, lessons and tales

i am sure it is all in my head
no, you’re right, i am making more of it, it is nothing, every one goes through it

i should just shake it off and be a productive member of society, right, i have no right to feel this way all the time, it is stupid, i am an idiot for feeling this way, i am the problem

no i won’t do anything drastic, no dramatic pleas for help, i can handle it my own god damned self, i dug this pit didn’t i

it isn’t as if i’m choking, detrimental, it is all mental

and yes i am aware i should stop writing, i have no taste for the words, no skill, playing at being something i am not

a person

a writer

i am just a stain, bringing you down, whispering the words that rattle around in everyone’s head

they don’t whisper to me

they scream bloody fucking murder, tainting all, taunting, mocking, laughing, clawing down my spine with butcher knives and hacking away at the core of who i am not

all in my head

it is self construction, self constriction, self reduction, self deduction, self reflection, selfish refraction of the pieces of a functional destitution, restitution, restoration

less than whole, holy shit, human skid mark on the highway of happy thoughts

the concern turns to judgement

just get over yourself, it is bringing us down, just swallow it, let it be your own private cancer, we don’t need to know about it, you don’t feel better sharing and we frankly have no time for caring

okay

apoplectic apologies

slap on a smirk and just roam the hallways, mask on, perpetual grin hiding the endless black, snarky come backs and be the afterlife of the party

just don’t share

don’t give voice to what should remain silent, have your break down some where private, be messy on your own, find someone to talk it out with, it isn’t as bad as you make it

we just want you to be happy

we want you to be whole

have you tried jesus

god can fix all that ails

god did this, made me a reflection of her, all alone and watching life happen, intoxicated with power and powerless to interact with the discarded playthings, ignoring the prayers and plights, above it all

a reflection of the mojave, lifeless and simultaneously burning hot and freezing cold

sorry to be a bother, sorry i am this way, wish i were better, wish i were good enough, well enough, whole enough instead of this hole

enough

i’ll be quiet

pretend it is okay, sip the kool aid and nod at the people, it is all good, maybe take a nap, not tired but