Nobody Believes I’m Depressed
By Liz Rae
nobody believes me when I tell them I’m unhappy
because everyone assumes they know what happiness looks like
that if you’re smiling, it means you are genuinely happy
or that if you show any signs of positivity, it means you’re happy
well i’m living proof that you can fake your way through your depression
everyone wants to be there for you when you are publicly sad,
when you are crying out for help and the whole world hears you scream
they want to take credit, to say they are helping their friend through shit
some sort of hero, because everyone wants to be a hero
but nobody wants to be there when everything in your life
is seemingly going well, when you seemingly appear to be living
luxuriously because if you have money you have happiness right?
you can buy your way through the pain right?
this will pass too, right?
you can take a pill or go to a class or speak to a random person trained to mysteriously solve your problems of people they don’t know, right?
they can’t be a savior to someone who isn’t absolutely a hopeless case
and when your friends start to leave you and people tell lies to ignore you and
your mind tells you it’s worthless and the money disappears and
the days get significantly longer and sleeping has never been more appealing
and being awake alone is exhausting and all you can ever find yourself
doing is crying in the night in the shower in the car in the bathroom plane
because you don’t want anyone to see you you don’t want them to
feel the pain you do,
no one will believe you.
because if you aren’t screaming it, you aren’t consistently depressed in public,
if you even try to be happy for one moment, just to let people know that you are alive,
you aren’t really depressed, right?