dear depressed diary

entry #2

Dear depressed diary,

this is my second day writing this, I don't know what to do. how detailed do you want these entries to be? because right now I could write a novel and spill every tiny secret I have or I could be vague, screw it, this diary is supposed to be a place where I spill everything that happens in my mind right? so strap yourselves in because my mind is really full today. 

I get asked all the time 'are you okay?' and I simply say 'yes, I'm fine, just tired' or sometimes just 'I'm fine' and nobody notices I'm lying. You could ask me why I say yes if the answer is not but I say yes because I cannot explain why I am so sad all the time, there is no reasoning behind it, so lying and saying that I'm okay is so much easier than trying to explain why I'm not. But its completely false. I am not okay, I'm really not okay, and although I say I am I try to give you so many reasons and do things that would show you I'm lying without actually saying it, because I cant say it. But that doesn't work, you don't see past the mask that I wear every single day, how I paint on a smile and force a laugh and pretend that everything is just great, well guess what, it isn't! But still everyday I paint on a smile but I'm running out of paint, everyday I use a bit more of that small amount of paint that I have, I don't know where to get more paint, I'm scared that cracks will start to shine through the paint and people will notice, like my voice is breaking and my smile and my laugh goes with it until its gone and everyone sees the true me, the depressed me. I sit and wonder, what will happen when I inevitably run out of paint? will people finally see that something is wrong? will people care? will they start to ask what's wrong? how will I explain it to them? Because I don't know. its like I feel so full of sadness and so empty at the same time, I feel like I'm constantly alone even when I'm not, and not the type of alone in a crowd, everybody feels that sometimes, the type of alone where you feel as if nobody sees you, everybody's there looking straight at you but instead they see through you and you aren't there, even though I know that I am not alone I have my friends and my family. I feel like nobody actually cares about me or needs me in their life, I'm just there because they pity me and don't want to hurt my feelings but I know that's not true because I've been told so but still that's what keeps coming into my mind. And I feel like nobody would care if I died or disappeared because I'm just unimportant and worthless and unnecessary. That is how I feel.

I write these thoughts because I thought maybe if I wrote them out then they aren't in my mind but they still are and even if they weren't now, these thoughts always come back. You could say that I am an addict with a pen, but to me the pen is a blade and the paper I write on is my skin.

I'm screaming. Can't you hear me? I'm screaming and shouting as loud as I possibly can, screaming for help, Constantly just screaming for help. But its like I'm barely whispering because don't hear, nobody hears. Why can you hear my cries? why wont you listen and help me? please, I'm begging you just help me.

You see me simling, always smiling and laughing, but if you would just look in my eyes, then you would see they are full of tears, they show juat how broken I am in my mind, if you look into my eyes then you would see everything I am trying to keep hidden, and I keep it hidden because you don't deserve to suffer like I am, you should not have to worry about me or worry about how I'm feeling, and I don't want to drag you down into this bottomless pit to fall forever with me.

everybody says 'it will get better', when? can you tell me when it gets better? you see I need to know because I'm starting to give up, everyday that passes I lose a part of my faith, of my hope, a part of me thinking I can handle this and live, so please, can you just tell me when it gets better?

I joke all the time about wanting death and hating everything, but listen closer, they aren't jokes anymore. sure I will continue to say them as if they are but they are becoming more true and when you laugh at them it hurts, it really hurts, that is my way of reaching out, through jokes. so please stop laughing. instead, just hug me. that's what I need, I need to be held close and tight and told that everything will be okay, I need you to believe in me because I cant believe in myself anymore, that's too difficult.

so now as my skin is stinging and my clothes are dyed a light shade of blood red, my mind is full of the most awful thoughts, they go deeper then the words said in this diary, thoughts that scare me and would scare anyone who heard or read them, I am left alone to try and get through this by my self. I promise I will try to survive. I guess.

see ya later demons.

"so,  Madeline, how have you been since we last talked?"

"how have I been in the past two days?"

"yes, have you had anymore thoughts?"

"isn't that what my stupid depression diary is for? so you can read all about my thoughts?"

"well that is what it is for but, is there anything that isn't in there which you would like to talk about? something making things seem good right now?"

"well there is something. but you have to promise me that anything I say here is private and once I walk out that door it isn't repeated"

"I can promise you that, unless what you say suggests you are in any way a harm to yourself or others"

"okay, well, ive been having these thoughts about myself.."

"what kind of thoughts?"

"no please, don't ask me anything until I have finished because ill lose all the courage I have"

"my apologies Madeline, carry on"

"I've been having thoughts about who I am, my role in life, what category I fit into in society. I guess my sexuality is a more simple way to phrase it. I've always thought I was straight, I mean I've had a crush on my best guy friend for as long as I can remember, I talk about him in the diary, his name is Shayne, but recently there has been this girl, I don't know her that well, we're friendly in the corridors but we never really speak, she is called Courtney and she is the most beautiful person I have ever seen and every time I talk to her I feel a sense of happiness and she makes me feel like my depression doesn't exist, she makes me feel normal and I don't know, I would love to get to know her and be her friend and maybe something more, but I'm petrified, she is one of the most popular girls in school and I can't fall in love with her, because I'm not gay, but I cant be bisexual, I know peoples views on bisexuality and I cant accept that I am who they describe me as, but with her, she is so open about how she doesn't care about gender and how its just a social construct and I feel like shed accept me for who I am but I don't know how to accept myself first and everything is so confusing. all the wires and thoughts in my head keep getting tangled and sorting them out is proving to be more difficult than expected and I feel like if I cant sort them out then ill never be able to fully understand who I am. I'm scared that people will find out and my parents will hate me more and ill lose all my friends and id lose my brother and if I was to lose them id fall apart and I would have lost this battle for my life because I cant live without them. I don't know how to figure this out."

"is that all Madeline?"

"yep that's all"

"okay, well I don't know much about sexualities but I do know that you don't have to figure everything out right now, you don't ever have to fully figure it out, as for that girl, the only place to start is by trying to be her friends, you said you are friendly on the corridors well try being more friendly not only in the corridors in classrooms and dining rooms as well. Maybe you can talk about your similar views on social constructs and genders, who knows what would happen. I am sure that your friends will not desert you for who you are and your brother, I can see how much you love each other by the fact he came here to get his sister back because he was so upset that the girl he had grew up with suddenly changed and he hated it, he wont leave you. I cant speak for your parents, I know your struggles with them, but maybe, once you figure this all out, they don't have to know, you aren't forced to tell, your parents, just like they don't know about your diary or the fact that you come here four times a week. your life is yours, only you can decide what happens and who knows what. don't think about it too much and don't rush into labelling yourself because that doesn't matter."

"thank you"

"its my pleasure"

"so, ill see you in a few days"

"I look forward to it, goodbye Madeline"

"bye, Albert"