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I fake my happiness just so they'd leave me, let me be, just so I can isolate in the crowd with my only friend who is almost my worst enemy”depression. I flash them my best smiles, behind my eyes lies the sadness that is within me, sometimes I even forget about how good I actually am at fooling these people. They are so convinced that I am getting better, that now I would go home everyday smiling and loving life. They mock my tears and my endless mood swings but I mock their stupidity that they think my sorrows can be alleviated so soon. I can't stop snorting my Ritalin even though it doesn't do much for me at least its something, at least it is something I can rely on, somehow the presence of chemicals in my body satisfies me, reassures me that help is not the way. I hate the way my friends want me to get better and I hate the way they want me to be happy”I hate the way they need me to lie to them just so they wouldn't have to be worried that I might end up dead the next day or that I might end up calling them in the middle of the night crying over nothing. I hate the way I can't just sit through everyday of my life frowning because to me that is the only expression that I can sincerely express. I hate the way I have to smile when inside I am tearing apart. I hate the way my friends keep asking me if I am ok, knowing that even if they knew something was wrong nothing could be done anyway. I hate the way my teachers think I am lazy that I am incapable because I know I am but I am blaming the depression for the work load I have been unable to complete. I even hate the fact that if I actually end my life tonight, it wouldn't be a significant death because my sorrows wouldn't have been expressed just yet. I hate the way I have to keep on living just long enough until I can get everything out in the open, that I have to wait until I am good enough that people would want to read about my problems. I envy those who are functioning, I hate those who are laughing, I hate them simply because they are happier than me, because they deserve to be living more than me. I hate the sick people fighting for their life, while here I am young and healthy and all I am trying to do is finding a reason not to end it”I found none. I hate the way I am ungrateful for everything I have and I hate the way people keep trying to tell me that I have something worth living for. I hate the way my friends think I can't see past what they are trying to do. I hate the way they think their reasons to justify why I should be alive are strong enough that I can believe. I hate the way I hate those who loves me, I hate the way I have to fake my happiness even in the presence of people I couldn't care less about. I hate the way I hate life and I hate the way I can't learn to appreciate it no matter how hard I try. I hate every bit of this cruel world. I have to die, not because I want to but because I need to, just so my sorrows can be expressed in a way people can learn to understand just how intense my pain is. I need to die simply because it is the only way I can convince people believe how bad depression is for me. I was on the verge of recovery towards the end of last week but faking my happiness is more burden then I can bear, it is not pulling me up but instead it is taking me down in this spiral, I am drowning in this whir pool of darkness. Although I see people reaching out their hands wanting to help me, I refuse to take those hands, not because I am unworthy but because I want to stay there surrounded by my sadness, my tears, my blood. To me, depression is a messed up state of mind, but somehow it's the closet thing to home.