I KNOW I AM LATE, SCHNECKENS. SORRY, NOT SORRY.
Yes, I am late. Today I had my political speech and I think I pulled it off. I mean, it wasn't the greatest speech in the world, but I'm sure it was good enough to tear down a wall...for a second time. Ah, I don't think I'm going to be tearing down walls for a long time after this!
Maybe I just need to set goals, or maybe I just need to stay out of my bed; but how can I when I just feel so god damn tired and my bed is a safe haven. Depression isn't just a mental illness, it's also physical and I realise that now. When I look at myself in the mirror, I see the Depression in my face; I look shattered all the time and I feel it all the time. Some days I can forget I have it and I feel great, but then there's the mighty crash and it's back to the bleak reality that I'm living with something so horrible, but society brushes it aside because it's not something you can technically see. You can though. When you look in my eyes, they look tired. When you look at my smile, weak and weary, it's clear there's something more going on. When you walk past me, looking down and timid, my body is being dragged down by a powerful illness. So why do folk simply ignore it and tell the suffer just to get over it? It's not just a mental illness, it is incredibly physical too.