I know I have Depression.

I know because I can’t remember the last time I got a good nights sleep. I know because I can’t see the point or the fun in anything. I’ll drink too much, sleep too little, and find it completely pointless to say anything. I have depression. I have a full time job that I think is beginning to be effected. I’m spacy, forgetful, exhausted. I think it shows. I already have a backup plan if anyone asks what’s wrong. The flu, or I don’t feel well, a migraine. Anything to keep people from seeing the truth. I’m breaking. The funny thing is, I’m ready to admit it, I think I’m ready to say I have severe anxiety and depression. But, then what? Help? I’ve been to therapists. I’ve taken the meds. I’ve done all your stupid yoga. So, I just sit in this fog. And wait. Wait for an answer. I know it’s unlikely something will fall out the sky. But, who knows. I feel afraid to say how bad it is. Because either no one will believe me or someone will and think I’m crazy. I’m always tired, I’m always ready to cry, and yet there’s work tomorrow, laundry to fold, and a smile to slap on my face to hide my illness. To be me is exhausting. I feel drained. I want to just walk away. Walk away from all the pressure to be perfect, the constant feeling of being overwhelmed, and just be at peace. Just say I’m done and leave everything behind. I know tomorrow will be another day, and somehow a solution will be found but right now it’s another night of no sleep.


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