#notmine.

I wake up to a weight in my chest.

I can’t breath.

It feels as though there is an anchor attached to my spine trying to pull me down into the earth.

Someone is holding me down.

I can’t find the strength to fight them to sit up.

My mom comes into my room,

Get up.

I can’t.

She says,

Take a shower and we have lights for a reason use them.

I can’t.

She says,

Eat some breakfast.

I can’t.

I say,

Mom this is getting to hard, I can’t ignore it anymore, I think I want to try medicine.

She says,

No. Stop being weak. Fix your own problems.

But mom I can’t.

This isn’t me.

Help please!

I feel trapped inside my body.

Like my depression has possessed me and taken over.

I’m inside my body, hiding in a deep dark corner, scared.

Mom please listen!

I need you, Mom!

Mom where are you?

Mom why don’t you listen?

You say you want to help but all you do is hurt.

I say,

I don’t want to be here anymore.

She says,

Get over it.

I scream.

She threatens to commit me.

She ignores me.

Yet acts like she can read me like a book.