Depression is my sister. I feel like I need her.
Depression is my sister- I feel like I need her. Depression is my safe place. It rips me apart, but I tape myself together with flimsy duct tape and paste my broken skin every day. Depression whispers in my ear to pick up that razor again, that one more cut won't send me sinking into an ocean of more. Depression loves me- I cry to myself that when it holds me in its dark embrace. Every. Single. Night.
It's my best friend. A toxic friendship, dancing with anxiety as our third wheel and yelling at everyone who tries to rip us apart. It yells at me not to rip it apart.
It's my best friend. A toxic friendship, dancing with anxiety as our third wheel and yelling at everyone who tries to rip us apart. It yells at me not to rip it apart. Along Depression comes Anxiety, our cousin that takes Depressions place every time it gets bored of me. I let them take me. And it hurts.
Every day, I have at least one moment where I become empty. Empty, sad, and depressed. I want to buy another razor to leave marks of self hate across my legs and wrists.
When Depression decides that it's bored of me, Anxiety steps in and holds me as I forget how to breathe. It tells me to cry, to be cold, to shake, to die. And it scolds me when I do.
I cannot help this. I want to help this.
I just need to know how to help me and my friends become healthy again.
I just need to know how to help me and my friends become healthy again. This consumes my every day life. It hurts so bad. Wondering when I'll have the next panic attack, hiding all sharp objects in my room so the wave of depression won't sweep me into a spiral of cutting again.
I know I'm not alone.
I know I'm not alone. It's just hard to KNOW that I'm not alone.. You know..?
What Girls & Guys Said
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I've dealt with both since the age of 8... It's a losing battle. I'm tired of fighting.
Wow stay positive, okay?
Go to a therapist.
Therapists don't work. They're just there for the money