We as human, call it wishes that came true, when it’s really coincidence.
Why can’t I cry?
Am I sick?
Probably, what will doctors say?
Depression? Ha! I wish.
What is pain for you? Do you feel the same as I do?
Is it some pressure on your head when your neck and shoulder are tensed up, when you can’t cry anymore because nobody cares, or is it because people are so selfish they won’t help others?
Is it that feeling that breaks you completely until you are on the floor with your head in your hands, smoothing the pain in your temples? Or could it possibly be the one that is too much to handle to even fake a smile, that when you walk you tremble, when you smile it fades, when you can’t swallow the lies, because your life is already a lie.
A beautiful lie, where everyone hides using masks. Mask that don’t show your true feelings, your emotions. And this is the life that I’ve always lived, the mask that I always wore, the lies that we all say. Most of you don’t care about all this, call me dramatic, but it’s the truth, call me liar, but I’m being realistic. You can never run away; you need an escape.
Yes, I do, I want to be like my neighbor, she’s never whining, or maybe my friend, he’s so normal, so human.
Am I inhuman for being depressed?
Probably, just because I can’t react with my emotions anymore, not laughing, smiling, crying, frowning. Not even my feelings, no joy, neither anger, nor happiness. I guess, at least I can give small faint smiles, better than nothing.
Are you inhuman too?
Do you feel the same as I do?
Why do I feel like this?
How could I not when I’m “inhuman?â€
Depression is never accepted by society, so I smile for them, laugh with them until my cheeks hurt, until they hurt so much that I can finally cry. Call me a doll in public, so spoiled, carefree, true, happy; just perfect. When the real me is breaking, dying, being torn apart, so imperfect; because that doll was never meant to be.
Some say I’m bipolar, could it be?
No way. I’m not depressed, if I am, I haven’t noticed.  This inhuman person, me, is writing in here, so she can get hope because all she wants is someone who can understand her.
She wants to be human.
2 comments
I wanna be human too..
I wanna burst that bubble I’m inside, and cry a whole river, for all those years I haven’t been able to cry..
I have no idea how to become human again..
Wow I read that and really felt it all. I am on antidepressants but I often wonder if this is depression or reality. I smile and try to fit in as expected but I’m miles away. I often look at people and ask, why are you happy? Why am I so different now? Is it because nothing bad happened to you or because you choose to ignore the bad. We all live in this world which we are told makes sense but what is really? It all seems like a sea of emptiness and small bubbles of happiness we can hide in for some time but we always seem to drift through them back into the vaastness of the “world”. My tears are becoming replaced with headaches, with a head full of questions and pain. Is this a test? Is someone looking over me and has a plan for some kind of future, or is it just all just what it is. Whatever the answer I need a way out, but life just seems to go on as it always does an endless river but mine seems to have turned into some dark woods where every turn is filled with sharp rocks and poisoned leaves and I don’t know if this is where I am forever or there is some new place just over the horizon but I’m loosing more hope every day. The inhumanity is something I know so well, it feels as if most of memories where planted there my someone else and I only exist to hurt. I want to be a person again but I am so lost in myself that I can’t seem to find a place I belong. I wish you the very best for the future and I hope things can get better for you and find the real happiness which you deserve