Depression Is My Kryptonite

Third Period

Panic.
Why?
No clue.
I was fine five minutes ago.
Can't walk into class without having a full mental breakdown.
I feel like I'm going to cry.
I know I can't.
But it's nice to try.
He let me go into the dressing room.
Probably recognized my depressing gloom.
My chest doesn't even hurt.
It's just paranoia.
The fuck is happening?
Staring at myself.
I don't recognize her.
This is different.
Why do they keep changing?
I'm tired of it.
Once I figure out one, the next has a totally different origin.
A wild goose chase inside my brain.
Here comes the pain.
Must've been delayed.
I have no idea what's going on.
The ringing on my ears is slowly coming back.
Sounds like static.
I hate it.
Should've grabbed my headphones.
My fingers can't move fast enough for my thoughts.
I keep getting distracted.
What is this reaction?
This is why I can't do things.
Am I bipolar?
Fuck, it'd make sense.
So does the thing we talked about.
The only thing I know for sure is the depression.
I've always had depression.
I want to give up again.
I can tell that I'm reverting back to me from last year almost entirely.
I almost killed myself last year.
It's terrifying.
I need these thoughts to just remain as thoughts.
I can't do that.
I have to help.
I have to get help.
My brain feels like it's caving in.
There goes another wall.
I don't have long.
I can already see the fucking bridge...