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What This Girl Wrote About Depression Will Leave You Breathless

Depression is an intangible and often hidden problem many do not know their closest friends deal with. One of the reasons I strongly believe in the arts. Whether it be at elementary level, or even collegiate is because it allows those who are naturally introverted to express things to the general public that they would never express otherwise. Things like depression or angst. The writer of this poem has been someone known to be very happy and yet in her poetry found a place to express herself.


I don’t know what to say, feel. So many thoughts are running through my mind. I feel helpless. I feel like crying because it is the only thing that soothes me. It makes me feel good at the end, whole. Sometimes i tell myself that I like pain, the suffering. It is a self feeling that I cannot really explain. I’ve come to notice that there is a side of me that likes happiness, and a side that likes misery. If i was to be put on a scale, misery would win. I feel like i am trapped in my own body, mind and soul. I want to fight this feeling, but it takes over me.

It is this dark side that haunts me constantly. As if I committed a crime in life, and now I am paying the price. It has been happening for so long, that I feel like it is part of me. I want it to stop, I just don’t know how to. My inner voice tells me

“You’re strong, you can overcome it”

while my dark side tells me:

“If you try, you’ll fail.”

I remember being a young girl who was always happy with life. I was always curious in knowing the unknown. I always wanted to go that extra mile. I had such an imaginative mind. I’d create my own scenarios and let my mind wander. It was my childlike behavior that made me feel this way, but in the real world I feared rejection.

In this world of mine, I fell in love, but he was poison. I loved him too much to let him go. I dealt with all the pain, hurt, the sufferings. It became a part of me. It made me bitter. I feel like I created who I am. I am living, in the unknown. It is difficult being someone that does not exist, in a world that does exist. There is such irony to it.

I’m trapped. There is a non-existent soul living in me, taking over control, breathing in me. I created this person, I had control over this person. It is not me anymore. I am a muppet being toyed with. An imaginary force is taking control of me. I’m stuck in the lions den, begging for mercy. I am a trapped soul, living an imaginary life, in a real mean world.

Save me.
Yours Truly,
Mariela M.

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