Ya know that feeling that creeps its way into your head when you least expect it? Depression.

I'm a danger to myself in the worst kind of way.

I want to be happy again.

Why should it matter that I want to kill myself? Stop pretending like you care.

There's no surgery that could fix the pain inside.

It really hurts to be me.

Pressure starts to build in my head. Blood begins to pump faster. Breathing becomes a memory.

If I told you I loved you, would you laugh? If I told you I was going to kill myself, would you smile?

Depression is like a hot iron, if touched it leaves its mark on you forever.

If I was an angel you'd be the devil.