I don’t want them to take my sadness personally. I don’t want them to assume that I’m bored of them and that I’m not having a good time, because of them.
I would love to open up to them about how I’m feeling, to really let them inside, but that feels impossible. I don’t know the right words to say. I don’t know how to explain why I’m sad — because I’m sad about nothing and I’m sad about everything.
So I stay silent. I inadvertently make them feel like I don’t trust them. Like we aren’t close enough to share our emotions.
I realize that depression can make me look like a douchebag. Like I don’t care about anyone or anything. But, really, I just don’t care about me.
My depression convinces me I’m worthless, so when I ignore your texts or tell you I’m too busy to hang out, I don’t feel guilty, like I’m hurting someone I love.
I feel like I’m doing you a favor. Like I’m saving you from the horrors of having to be my friend.
I feel like I’m letting you off the hook. Like I’m giving you the excuse you’ve been looking for to leave my life for good, to forget I ever existed.
When my depression hits hard, my self-worth gets warped. I don’t understand that you actually want to see me. That you actually miss looking into my eyes and hearing my voice. That you actually care.
So if I accidentally hurt you, please don’t take it to heart. I’m really not trying to be rude. I’m only trying to make it to tomorrow.