the book of poems

(not) sad enough

this is a long, rambling tangent of words that barely make sense, yet make the most sense (in my eyes, at least). it may be a bit hard to follow, but that's because i was typing everything i was thinking at the moment. you may read, just know that this is not the happiest of "poems."

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i'm not sad enough for people to care,

but i'm not happy enough for me to feel okay. 

i don't want to put a label on how i feel if it isn't extreme enough to be valid.

but, why am i showing all of the symptoms then? 

why have i been feeling this way for months?

i've taken numerous online tests for "depression."

such a heavy and extreme word that no one really wants to say.

and every

single

time,

the tests give me the answer that i already knew it would. 

"You've scored in the moderate to severe major depression range.

Please remember: this is not a professional diagnosis. Talk to your doctor."

i don't have a therapist.

i've never been to therapy.

this is because my mom just thinks i'm lazy,

since i never get out of bed.

she thinks i have no friends,

since i never go places. 

she thinks i'm simply never hungry,

since i hardly eat anything other than an apple a day. 

what she doesn't know is,

i have no motivation to do anything.

even basic human tasks take me a lot of energy to do. 

i forget to eat, 

forget to sleep, 

because i'm trying to drown myself in the world of the internet,

so  that I don't drown myself in my thoughts. 

i stare blankly for minutes, 

feeling empty, 

feeling sad,

and not knowing what i'm feeling. 

even as i'm writing this, 

my mind continues to drift to nothingness yet everythingness

and my eyes start to well up with tears.

because, i don't know what the fuck is wrong with me

and i'm afraid i never will. 

i'm not sad enough for people to notice.

just because i walk around with a smile on my face

and humor in my eyes,

doesn't mean i'm alright inside. 

just because i don't wear black all of the time,

or walk around with my head down,

doesn't mean i don't want to cry. 

i'm not sad enough for people to care,

i'm not sad enough for people to take me seriously,

i'm not sad enough to be labelled as depressed by the people around me,

but i'm sure as hell sad enough to feel like i will never be okay again. 

to feel like i'm empty and hollow shell of my former self 

who cries when her favorite book character dies or her favorite television show gets cancelled.

now, i'm a person who couldn't even cry at her uncle's funeral. 

who couldn't even cry when her mother got diagnosed with cancer or

when her grandmother most likely only has a year left to live. 

i cry at everything and nothing and my brain always feels like its going to explode 

from all of the nevernending thoughts, yet also from no thoughts at all

and it feels like a cloud of sadness and self hatred is always hovering over my head

and i had to cover up my scars during swim season 

so that no one would find out how much i despise who i am as a human being

but apparently to the rest of the society i am still not classified as 

SAD ENOUGH. 

no one ever talks about the type of sadness when you feel alone in a group of friends 

no one ever talks about the girls who always have a (fake) smile on their face 

no one ever talks about the type of sadness where you feel so sad and empty 

that you can't even will tears to fall down your washed out and blank looking face.

no one ever talks about the sadness that's invisible to everyone except you.

no one ever talks about the emptiness in your heart that nothing can fill

 because you forgot how to fill it. 

no one ever talks about the sadness that leaves you in tears on a sunny summer day at 2:30 in the afternoon when you're home alone and the house is silent and the silence provokes thoughts that you didn't even know were still in your brain. 

so, the next time i hear the words "not sad enough,"

i will make sure to tell them that what they say is 

"complete bullshit." 

because they don't know how the fuck i feel

and they never fucking will. 

and that is that.