It annoys me when you do your best to comfort me because I am not able to return the favour when you’re upset. And you stay there, and lay next to me and hush in my ears ‘all is gonna be okay, I am here’. I know, I see you; but why? I’m embarrassed because I cry in front of you, and I know there’s gonna be a breaking point when you will not be able to take my sadness any more. I don’t know why I cry. You’re unfortunate ¬†enough to have met me in this period of life when my depression and anxieties are having a ball. I am sorry.

I see I immasculate you with my behaviour. I don’t mean to. I am going to lash out sometimes and it’s gonna be ugly. And you say you’re happy because you haven’t seen me mad before. And if I would know how beautiful I am when I smile I’d smile all the time.

and this is not a romantic comedy. I am not blue a little and it’s gonna pass after I cry a little bit. I have lost my motivation. I can’t keep up with my work. I am not able to pick stuff up from the floor.

My books are there. My notes are there. My credit cards are there. My bills are there.

I’m afraid to meet with you because I think you’ll end up with an ugly mark.


This overwhelming sadness; crawling up and down my spine. I feel it enter me and fill my lungs: I’m drowning. You conniving suffocator, you lure me in it every time. And I always think this time I’ll be alright. This time I’ll make it. And then you tickle me to the ground. Now I’m on my bed and helpless and I can’t cry for help – there’s no sound. I feel tears running down my face – you are happy – as you continue – now dancing – on my spine.