Dealing with depression—it’s a hard thing that I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. Seriously.
Wanting to not be alive, to disappear, and to not be seen. It’s too hard to deal with.
I can’t even tell you how many times I would have loved to jump out of the window, to fall out of a tree
Or maybe I could just hold up a gun, try to rob a place The cops may come and kill
Me. Maybe just go away and hide my face. No one will even notice me. Why? Is this
How I want it to be? To even be here is it all worth it? How many times have I felt
Like this? Is this how my life is to be? I can’t take it anymore. How nice it will be
Not to feel. Is any of this real? I begin to slip away. I blank out and start to fade.
There is just one thing that brings me back. It’s not my meds, and not my mom, but something
Even more important. My best friend is calling me. I can’t give up; I must hang on. If not for me than just for
Her. I pull the blade away
But the blood will
Not stop. It’s bright
And flowing free. She’s
Looking straight at me,
Her voice is silent, but her look
Is violent. I suddenly regret my choice
As I think “She’s going to raise her voice”
Silence. She doesn’t speak, but instead
Goes to get the bandages.
Wraps my arm up and gives me a hug.
She doesn’t even notice the blood.
In this moment we realize, speaking not with our voices
But with our eyes.
I can’t believe what I’ve done. Without her here, I would have been gone.