You see me as a 15 year old, you cannot seem to see beyond. There's a melancholy so deeply engraved, it feels like 50 years of age. You say it is just anxiety pangs and disregard me from naming my depressing days as depression. You say i am just sad and not depressed.
No tragedy, no trajectory. It is indeed surprising how i hugged this unhealthy mystery. It is not an insomnia, i just cannot wake myself up from an already on-going sleep. My reveries at my peak. There is a lot of crying, a pool of my whines and an exasperating delay. I have found my new home in procrastination.
No, i have not had any break ups, any family feuds or any grudges to cling onto. It is not a trauma i am going through. I have got friends but a social anxiety. I have my high days but an anxiety. Tears pour down my pillow like a rain, i have been waiting to wash my hands with. I look at my palms and wonder: 'is it what is written in there, now?' I have got to hurry, i got to catch up. I feel like everybody around me is going to leave me behind. I feel so embarrassed of my situation, i cannot even seem to properly comprehend my exasperation. I have got so much to think, so much to feel. Yet, all i can feel is numb. Yet, you take me lightly and say it is not depression?
I just sit down and wonder. Everything that i see around me seems to horrify me. There's always an awkwardness around of me . An awe i do not want to succumb to. My chest feels so heavy i feel like someone is stabbing me. Yet, when i wound my wrist, the cut doesn't hurt me. I become incapable of feeling the pain, yet there is an on going pain i feel in my heart of the hearts; in my mind. I seem to carry it inside. This situation is so contradictory. Yet you say i could be delusional because how can a 15 year old have depression?
Nothing hurts me more than when you say how can teenagers be depressed, they do not seem to even know the meaning of it. They're just sad.
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