TW: Depression, Anxiety

I am surrounded by loved ones
but depression drags me to an empty room.
It is patient as it waits for me to forget
that there is anybody looking for me.
It leans in close and whispers lies like,
“They don’t believe your pain is real
or maybe they haven’t even noticed it.
But they have noticed you’re not fun anymore,
that they don’t miss you
like they thought they would.
They don’t miss you
like you thought they would.”
Depression has started a fight and wants me to believe
I have nobody in my corner.
So it isolates me.
It locks the door,
hangs a sign upon the handle that reads,
“Do not disturb.”
It draws the blinds.
Just long enough for its lies to crawl into my ear
and make themselves comfortable
so that when I am found,
when my loved ones lead me out,
I no longer trust them.
Depression asks me, “Why didn’t they find you sooner?
Did they even look?
They would never understand.
You could never make them understand.
They’ll judge you.
They already judge you.”
I am surrounded by loved ones
but I feel so alone in this.
Depression says, “This is going exactly according to plan.”
But my loved ones, they have plans too.
They find me when I get lost in this pain.
They keep promises.
They check in.
They ask how I’m feeling
and they want to know the truth.
They take care of me
and sometimes that’s picking up my prescriptions
and sometimes it’s just listening.
Sometimes it’s lying in the dirt with me
as I dig my hands into the earth
and beg for my perception of things
to be grounded in reality.
I plead for paranoia and its older sister anxiety
to forget my name.
I ask my fears to let me go.
They ask my fears to let me go.
They fight for me.
Sometimes we just exist together.
When my pain is too great for any words
they just show up.
When there are no right words to say
They stay anyway.
They breathe the same air as I do.
They mourn beside me.
We don’t even have to touch.
I will still feel that they are there.
This is what it means to be here for someone.
Depression falls to its knees pleading with me to walk away,
to follow it back into its room.
Its whispers become shouts.
It yells, “They don’t really love you.
They’ll give up on you as soon as they get the—.”
I cut it off. I interrupt.
I say, “I could really use a friend right now.”
I am surrounded by loved ones.
They hear me.
They listen.
They answer,
“You don’t ever have to feel alone.”