They say nature heals… but even surrounded by peace, I’m still falling apart quietly...

There’s a deep shame that comes with depression — not just for feeling broken, but for not being able to fix it. For knowing people care and still feeling alone. For wanting help, but not knowing how to ask for it without sounding dramatic.

After betrayal, trusting someone again feels like holding ur breath underwater every second is survival. Depression makes u feel unworthy of loyalty. Anxiety convinces you that everyone’s hiding a knife. So u keep ur distance, even from those who haven’t given you a reason to.

You want to reach out, but anxiety reminds you of every time you felt like a burden. You want to isolate, but depression reminds you that you’re already alone. So you sit, stuck between two states of pain, watching yourself fall apart from inside ur own body.

Sometimes the scariest part of healing is realizing how much you’ve normalized the pain.

No one really knows how much you're struggling until someone asked how you're doing and then all emotions pour out like a freaking river.

I’ve stopped asking questions because I’m scared of the answers. Not because I don’t deserve the truth — but because I know the truth might be the final crack in me. Anxiety asks for honesty. Depression begs me to shut up. Trust left me somewhere between the two.

I tried to believe I could get better. But depression said: “Don’t get your hopes up. You always fall back.”

People don’t see how hard you work just to seem okay. To smile. To answer. To breathe. They don’t see the way depression weighs you down, or how anxiety keeps you bracing for another collapse, even when you’re already on the floor.

Depression doesn’t steal your ability to feel—it magnifies the wrong feelings. Guilt. Shame. Emptiness. Until joy becomes suspicious, love feels temporary, and peace is something you think only happens to other people.

Sometimes I feel like I’m not really living, just existing. Floating thru days I can’t remember, waiting for something to change but too drained to do anything. Depression took my joy, anxiety stole my peace. What’s left feels more like a shadow than me.

In a world that feels too loud, this is where I come to feel a little less lost.

It’s exhausting to live in a body that feels heavy with invisible weights. Every step feels like walking through wet cement, every breath feels borrowed, and every smile feels like something I have to earn just to appear normal.

Every smile I put on feels like a lie, a fragile mask that hides the pain and emptiness inside. I'm pretending to be okay, pretending to be whole, but the cracks are showing, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep up the act.

Depression isn’t dramatic. It’s the quiet absence of color in things you once loved, the way days blend together, the way you stop noticing the small joys you used to reach for.

High functioning depression is so scary because no one knows that you're not ok. And even if you say something, people don't care because you don't present as someone who's falling off the deep end.

I'm here where are you?

Stop provoking ppl n then pretending u dnt get y they reacted. U cant keep bothering someone, hurting their feelings, or pushing their limits n xpect them 2 alwys stay quiet. Evry1 has a point whr they’ve had enuf. If u keep throwing stones, dnt b surprised wen 1 comes back at u.

The worst part about healing… is realizing your own mother isn’t the safe place u can cry to.

Anxiety keeps me tense, but depression keeps me numb. I’m constantly on edge, yet I can’t bring myself to care about what might happen.