if i can't feel, if i can't move, if i can't think, and i can't care, then what conceivable point is there in living?
some friends don't understand this. they don't understand how desperate i am to have someone say, i love you and i support you just the way you are because you're wonderful just the way you are. they don't understand that i can't remember anyone ever saying that to me. i am so demanding and difficult for my friends because i want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though i am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. depression is all about if you loved me you would.
Kommentarer
Trackback
