I haven’t been able to do the normal things lately. School already seems so far away. How many months did I miss now? Two? Three? Maybe even four? I can’t remember. Days are passing by like clouds. Slowly and without a word. Maybe the pain made the days silent. For it’s been there all along. My mind is going crazy and I’ve been trying to make it shut up – make them shut up. I don’t want to think anymore, if each second feels like I’m going crazy. All that once made sense is now one chaotic bunch of horrible desperation. Depression, my doctor’s said. I hate that word. I don’t want to be depressed. It comes with sadness, incredible anger and hate. And a lot of fear. For maybe I’ll never think good of this world again. And that same old emptiness, that has filled up my wounds for now. My mom almost screams at me when I’m crying once again, claiming ‘they’ll help me’. But I just can’t seem to understand, how someone can help me if I can’t even help myself.