Depression

When the sheets on your bed turn in to walls, a protection barrier, but too heavy to crawl away from once it falls.

when your pillow has two sides, one on which you sleep and one on which you cry.

When getting up is a fight, when there’s too much anxiety during the night.

Then you know.

Things you used to enjoy being destroyed,  every last bit of hope thrown into the trash because depression would rather see you crash and burn.

You fight, you fight a war no one understands because “Yesterday you seemed alright! ” And “You should really snap out of it”.

And snapping you do.

When you finally pieced yourself together, prepare to watch yourself crumble.
Hide under your blankets. Cry in your pillow.

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