"Depression affects approximately 14.8 million American adults, or about 6.7 percent of the U.S. population age 18 and older in a given year." -Anxiety Disorders Association of America
that's all i am now.
a statistic.
one in 14.8 million.
it makes me feel small and insignificant,
ironically enough.
what really sucks is that i can feel the change.
the small amount of confidence,
the courage,
and the sense of purpose
i've gained in these last few months
is slowly slipping away.
i feel myself becoming
that person on the corner of the room,
half-hidden in the shadows.
and as i lay in my bed today,
sobbing in broad daylight,
i realized something even more scary—
halfway through examining the skin on my wrist
and almost desiring pain—
i'm afraid to be alone.
i'm afraid of what i'll do to myself.
i quickly wiped the tears away
and looked for anything sharp,
born of a desire to both protect and hurt myself.
then the moment passed,
i found a pocketknife on my dresser,
and it completely filled me with fear.
next time,
will i be able to say no?
that's the scariest part.
i might not be able to.
