I’m so fucking tired of hiding my depression, I try and hide it every day just so you fucking people stay happy. If I don’t you’ll push and push and push at me till I snap. and it feels like every time you think I might be depressed or sad, you say something to almost one up me.
If you see me not smiling for a week, you confront me and try to “talk about it” when all you do is yell and tell me how stupid I am for being depressed. That’s when become fucking awful parents just forcing me back into a hole where my depression hides until I break and cut again. That’s why you have to “put me in my place” every couple of months. I am almost at another breaking point, but you wouldn’t know… you don’t know a lot.
Did you know I cry myself to sleep most nights? Did you know that I’ve been feeling suicidal? Did you know that I starve myself so I don’t cut? How about the fact that I get picked on? Or that on valentines day in science class I sat alone at my table for 20 fucking minutes, having scraps of paper and gum wrappers thrown at me by 2 people who used to be good friends with me? Did you know that I dread changing for gym because people see my scars and talk about as if I’m not there? Or that people in public have seen them and called me names?
No you wouldn’t know anything, because I can’t talk to you, because I don’t trust you, because you don’t listen.
And if you don’t like what i fucking post deal with it because I’ve found it to be helpful in the slightest way and if your thinking about telling anyone about this, (you know who you are) just consider that I would begin to loathe you in a way, especially since you’ve told before
