What They Don’t See

My depression is a beast. And it’s winning.

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It’s what they don’t see.

The tears.

The gasping breaths.

The desire of wanting to die.

Because that’s what I want.

I want to die.

I don’t have anything to my name.

I don’t have anyone who depends on me.

I’m not even sure I have friends.

Family is non existent.

I’m alone.

No one hears me or really sees me.

I have nothing to live for.

I’m completely at the bottom.

I’m staring at the barrel and I’m ready for the lights to go out. 

I’m not really here.

I never mattered to myself or to anyone else.

It won’t be a shame or a waste.

I never belonged here. 

My days are numbered. 

And I’m very ok with that.

There’s no one to hold my hand or wipe away my tears. 

I don’t have a shoulder to lean on.

All I have is somewhere to lay my head and hopefully, fade away.

People don’t care to see you cry in the dark, drowning in your despair.

It’s what they don’t see that scares them.

So, they close their eyes and pretend it’s not there.

I wish I could do that too.

Sadly, I can’t.

It’s what they don’t see, that will be the end of me.

Author: The Beast

Writing my experience with depression.

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