Telling myself I’ll get up in 10 minutes to clean my messy room and next thing you know it’s already 5:07pm.
Crying in silence so my parents don’t hear.
Not wanting anybody near.
My dad walks in through the door, and doesn’t say anything.
Mental illness is going off the roof in this house and no one does anything about it.
Depression feels like:
a revolving door that never has an entrance.
Depression feels like missing every single one of my 9am discussions because I didn’t have the energy to wake up on time.
Depression feels like waking up at noon and finally starting my day at 3pm.
It feels like standing up too long might make my legs break.
Wanting to socialize but talking too much will make my head hurt.
It feels like having pulled an all-nighter but really you had 10 hours of sleep.
Depression feels like a hangover without an ounce of alcohol on my system.
But today I am here and everywhere all at once.
All of the above.
And that’s okay.
[Submission by Paulina Mendoza. Paulina is a junior at UCLA majoring in Chicana/o Studies with a minor in Education.]