I can’t stand it when people sit there and tell you they understand what you’re going through.

No you don’t.

You don’t know what else I’ve been through in my life that effects how I’m feeling right now. You don’t know the roads I’ve traveled. You don’t know the things I’ve seen. You don’t understand. In a way, no one does and no one ever will.

I have hit the most horrible patch of depression. It’s worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. So I get asked the same questions.

“What caused it?”
“Why do you feel like this?”
“Can’t you just get over it?”

Trust me. If I could just ‘get over it’ I would. It’s not like I enjoy feeling like this. It’s not like I enjoy crying because I messed up on something I was painting. Or crying because of the color orange. Literally crying over everything.

But you don’t understand. You don’t understand how my entire body aches. You don’t understand that I feel that tingle in my stomach, the one you feel before you cry, constantly. You don’t understand how alone and secluded I feel. You will never understand how I feel. You may have felt something similar but you’ve never felt this. You’ve never been in my shoes.

I’m an insomniac. And all I want to do is sleep. All I want to do is curl up and cry myself to sleep. I cried today because Walmart didn’t have wooden paint stirring sticks. I just want to sleep. I just want to sleep away all the emotions and tears.

My head hurts. My eyes hurt. Everything hurts.