(A/N this is just to get the story started but please let me know what you think.)
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People ask me why I'm depressed all the time. My family. My therapist. My friends. They say that I don't even have a bad life, that I just blow things out of proportion to make my life seem worse than it is.
"Think of the people with no family, their lives ruined forever- are you truly selfish enough to think that you have a reason to be sad when people live through that and still at least try to be happy?"
That's mostly from my mom.
The truth is that I know that I don't have a bad life. That I have family, friends and people that at least pretend that they care, but you can't compare a person that 'just has depression' to a person with nothing. I would rather have nothing than have this illness. This disease of the mind. I am a lot of nasty, horrible, things but I am not a selfish person. There is not a moment that I don't tell myself to be happy for the sake of others. To smile to not cause distress. To cover my cuts and fake happiness for the world. That's why it's so devastatingly annoying to hear people tell me to "smile more" or to not "pull that depressing face all the time". Or when people have the nerve to tell me that I look, and I quote, depressed. No shit, I look depressed. Do you even know how hard it is to fake a smile for at least 12 hours a day? I'm truly sorry that it takes a toll on my appearance and that disturbs you.
YOU ARE READING
To Ash
General FictionCuts heal, Words scar. Love burns, To Ash. ___________________ Just going to say that some stuff said in here can trigger people so please don't read it if you feel like it might trigger you:)x Copyrighted ©
