Exposing my vulnerabilities

Monday
7pm
shower time.

cold water turned on. waiting. it's temperamental.
a minute later, it kicks in
now for the hot water.
in I get.

I crouch down. arms around the knees
in a crouched fetal position.
I don't know if I can continue.
the facade is cracking.
the pretending I am fine is fading.
I just want to cry.
but I don't have the energy to.

the words of a friend pass through my mind again.
they hit close to home. I know how they feel
'I can't even do depression right it seems.'
it's a feeling I know all too well.

the thing my friends who aren't depressed say to me the most
'get over it' and 'its all in your head'
'harden the fk up' but they are just words.

they don't know what its like to have to muster the desire to get out of bed each day.
they don't know what its like, to head down to the waterfront of an afternoon, and look out into those waters
and wonder

to just wonder, that, if I walked into those waters, and just drifted out to sea
would anyone notice?
would anyone care?

I know for some this may come across as melodramatic.
as 'being the victim'
but before mum passed, I always had this depression.
the thing that stopped me was in the back of my head
'its not worth people suffering, for life, for your moment of weakness'
but now she's gone.
and that voice that told me to stay strong
it doesn't speak so loud anymore.

I'm sure I'm not alone in this feeling.
in fact, a quick google search will show you that 1 in 4 people suffer from depression.
that's some pretty staggering odds.

I'm on a bus right now, and there are 3 people plus the driver.
I am that 1 in 4.
by the time i get to my destination,
40 minutes from now,
4 Australians will have lost their battle against the voices in their heads.
the voices that tell them stupid shit.
that they are worthless.
that no one cares.
these are the voices the kids in the playground used to use on them
because they were born to poor parents, that couldn't afford the basic necessities in life.
not even that.
because they didn't have the newest Nike Air's or Reebok pumps.

but you know what? we DO care.

we care because we have been that kid.
we care because money can't buy what we have. money cant buy respect.
so the next time you see someone being spoken to in a poor manner
do something about it. because you never know.
that person might go home and make an attempt on their own life.
worst still, they may succeed.

i feel i should end this by apologising about how dark this post is.
i am struggling at the moment.
this time 2 years ago, i was meant to be spending time with my mum for her 54th birthday.
instead, i was spending it, holding her hand, as she took her final breathes.
it was hard, but i think it would have been harder to not be there.

image courtesy of pixabay

thanks for reading. this was quite hard to write, but it needed to be said.