Ashlea

June 8, 2003

-- depression is

depression is when you can't sleep and you get so bored looking at your roof, that you spend weeks nights contemplating what to do with it only to find that you wouldn't have enough determination to do it.
depression isn't always suicide.
depression is ovbious to only yourself. suicide is ovbious to everyone.
depression is, and always will be, my, and many others, mays of life.
depression runs my life. makes me do things i shouldn't do.
depression is that voice in the back of your head telling you, that you need help.
depression makes you gain weight, loose weight, not eat, eat too much.. do drugs. give or take a few.
depression has the feeling of death, without the dying part.
depression is still killing you even if you have the best things in the world.
depression isn't just having too little, it's having too much as well.
depression is never seeing your father happy.
depression is loosing your brother too his girlfriend.
depression is the killing of the broken pieces of your heart.
depression is slow motion and fast motion at the same time.
depression is the illusion that the world has turned it's back on you and everyone in it.
depression is seeing happiness everywhere you go.
depression is hoping to survive and hoping not to at the same time.
depression isn't contemplating suicide, but wishing you were already there.
depression is when the only thing that cares is the depression itself.
depression is when you are at school and you can't remember things you learnt in grade 5.
depression is falling alseep in your favourite subject.
depression is hating yourself because your parents hate you.
depression is the hatred of your family.
depression eats your insides witha smile on it's face.
depression is the look in your eyes when you wake up in the morning, knowing you have to live another day.
depression is yourself. you are depression.
depression makes you who you are and who you'll always never want to be.
depression makes you miss your old self, but once your better, you miss depression.
but for me, mostly, depression is all of these, plus, depression is when you have had it so long that you are scared of who you will be when and if you get better. you wonder if you could survive happy and if the happiness would eat you.
now ask yourself.. do you have depression?

why is it that you think of no-one else but yourself. you sit in that corner of your eye all day long and sing lullibies to unknown people. you make people up. you make this aaron person up, because if he was as great as you say he is, he would have many a friend and would not spend hours on the net. but.. don't but in, i have not even begun. you sit there on your arse all day long. whether it is talking to the boy who loves you.. just to remind you that you fucked the best thing ever or on the ent, you do nothing with your life.. but.. no. shut the fuck up. you do not care about your parents.. look at them.. i said fucking looka t them i am looking.. please... no shut-up you. look at them. they are perfect parents, never set a foot wrong, even if they read your diary, lie to your face, tell you sanata is real and call you fat and ugly and take away all your self confidence does not mean that they are bad parents. but you do not live with them... why would i want them to live with me, i have my own fucked up life and i don't need someone perfect invading it. now fuck off and live your life and stop wasting time talking to yourself again. goodbye. bye.. sorry to disturb myself.

She walks to school with the lunch she packed.
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back.
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday,
She hides the bruises with linen and lace.
Oh.

The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask.
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask.
Bearing the burden of a secret storm,
Sometimes she wishes she was never born.

Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone,
In a world that she can't rise above.
But her dreams give her wings,
And she flies to a place where she's loved:
Concrete angel.

Somebody cries in the middle of the night.
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights.
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate.
When morning comes it'll be too late.

Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone,
In a world that she can't rise above.
But her dreams give her wings,
And she flies to a place where she's loved:
Concrete angel.

A statue stands in a shaded place:
An angel girl with an upturned face.
A name is written on a polished rock:
A broken heart that the world forgot.

Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone,
In a world that she can't rise above.
But her dreams give her wings,
And she flies to a place where she's loved:
Concrete angel