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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

This poem is one I have worked on for a long time about my own struggle with depression, that I have only recently started being open about. So many people struggle and are scared to speak up
because a lot of people still don't understand.

Submitted: August 19, 2018

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Submitted: August 19, 2018



I'm tired.
I'm stressed.
I'm busy.
I'm sick.
These are among my most common excuses. Especially, 'I'm tired'. 
But that one is true. I can't remember a day where I wasn't tired. 
'Are you getting enough sleep? 
taking vitamins? 
exercising/eating well? 
Have you seen a doctor? 
Maybe you're anemic, 
or have hypothyroidism.'
That's what I always hear, but I know better
I sleep fine on sleeping pills, the nightmares mostly at bay
I've had blood tests done to no avail
I've forced myself to 'get out of my bubble' join work out groups and classes
It's easy to eat healthy when you're disinterested because everything tastes the same anyway 
I want to wallow in self pity. I want to turn myself inside out, wear my sorrow around me like a cloak. I don't want anyone to look at me. 
Can they see it on my face? The defeated glaze in my eyes?
In the way I walk, slightly slumped and swaying due to my constant body aches? 
It's like a silent sickness. The flu that never leaves
It's a parasite. A little black worm, wriggling around inside me
Feeding off my organs, my brains. Causing my head to feel fuzzy, cloudy
It feels so palpable. I almost believe I can reach inside my ears and pull it out
If only it were so easy
How do I not let this define me? 
I spend so much time wondering why the corners of my mouth are so heavy. 
People always tell me to smile. They say it takes more muscles to frown. But it takes such an effort for me, maybe my make up is different. Smiling isn't in my genes.
Normal people don't realize
how hard everything is for people like me
Going to work
hanging out with friends
holding a conversation
feigning interest in the everyday bore of people's lives 
going to the grocery store
the gas station
making a phone call
even just saying 'hi' to someone
It takes somuchoutofme.
But you can't say that to people
they don't understand
Going through the motions everyday
I always tell myself
'This is how normal people act
what normal people do
how they walk
how they talk
how they breathe'
But I don't feel like a real human. I never felt like I belonged. 
I try to ask for help. But the words come out sounding strange and foreign
I'm afraid they think I'm lying for attention
But I never wanted anyone to notice me
I've only ever wanted to blend in with the crowd
To be a normal human 
with interests and energy and hobbies
But the only thing I really want to do
is lay in bed all day
with the sheets drawn up over my head
and the still silence of the room to comfort me
my body is constantly hungry for more sleep
Because the noise and chaos of the world exhausts me.

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