The same tune

Dat feel when your depression is so intense that every minute of every day feels intolerably pointless, to the point that you need to escape to the dubious comforts of a bathroom stall to collect yourself amidst the overwhelming hopelessness to breathe and convince yourself that you can get through the next hour; that you can act normally enough so as to fool those nevertheless well-meaning people around you into believing that you’re not consumed with an all-encompassing self-hatred and bilious contempt for humanity.






Just me then.

The same tune

One thought on “The same tune

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