It's funny how my parents don't see the dried tear drops on my face. They don't hear my sobs for help.
My mom always asks why I wake up so late. My response. I never want to wake up. But I know I have to. She just thinks I'm lazy.
I'm not.
Maybe I don't want to wake up to reality or this nightmare. No house fights but I still feel like I'm at war with my own mind.
My family says "We're always here."
Why don't you hear?
They interrupt, they say they don't care and they don't believe.
"I think I'm depressed."
"Nonsense."
OK! I guess you don't want to help me. If you wake up and I'm not breathing don't go crying cause you never listened.
