Drowning With Oxygen

They say the best thing you can do when you have a problem is to admit it, but who wold I tell that I’m depressed if I’ve already bodered every single one of my friends with it?

I have absolutely no reason to be depressed, but yet I’m here again feeling that the reallity got broken and everything went down as if the word wasn’t anything but a casttle of glass.
Can’t tell anyone because people never really cares or they have no way to help… how to help if you don’t even know what’s all about? I think I just need to jump and fall with all those little pieces of the world into the abyss, or maybe I just need to go back in the time when I could feel good about crying on my dad’s lap for hours -but… did it ever feel that way? I don’t think so.

However I just can picture myself against a wall with my head on my hands and my hair twisted around my fingers, with someone hearing me babble about needing air but feeling physical pain everytime I breath and how I couldn’t talk on my birth language because when I’m upset it just happens that my tounge finds its way to the few words I know on other languages. And then I’d put my nails on the floor and try to scratch it until I didn’t feel the blood on my veins like highly-deadly poison. That person would hold me together so I didn’t fall to pieces like I should and then the oxygen wouldn’t be letal, I wouldn’t been drowning in the thing I need the most to keep my body working.

Why if I let go? Could I just stop breathing and let myself die in an ocean of pure oxygen….?