Explaining My Depression to my Parents

When my parents saw the blood stains on my long sleeved shirt, my insides turned and twisted into a a knot that cannot be untangled.
I knew that this dark secret i was hiding was finally coming out.
They cried, tears flowed like the Rivers in hidden valleys
They told me they loved me, but their words were falling upon my suddenly deaf ears.
How, how was this love?
Their so called love only showed when my blood was visible.
I was forced to talk. Forced to vomit up all of my feelings and emotions, turned into acidic bile.
Oh no, not our daughter they said.
She was supposed the good one.
The good one?
well maybe i'm tired of living up to your expectations,maybe i'm tired of always being the one they look to to be the most well behaved.
I shouldn't have to worry about being perfect all the time mom and dad.
Mom and Dad, i'm lonely.
They said well maybe you should get out of your room. Make some plans with your friends.
Depression holds me captive in my room. Tying me to my bed where all my thoughts run rampant.
sure, I have friends, and i know that I should want to be with them.
But it's hard having fun when you don't want to have fun at all.
Mom, Dad, my Depression makes me an insomniac.
They said drink some tea and count sheep.
But i'd much rather feel the tears sting my cheeks than the tea sting the back of my throat.
I can't count sheep, my mind just counts the ways I am ugly, the reasons I have to stay awake
Have to study. I have to be perfect. Have to do everything for everyone and nothing for myself.
Mom, Dad i hate myself.
How can you hate yourself?
how can't i? when you're the ones telling me that i am never good enough. That i am always going to fail.
Mom, dad I have anxiety.
Where did anxiety come from? they say.
Anxiety is the friend that depression brings home that nobody likes.
Only thing is, I am the home, and i wish to move out.
They said I don't understand.
Of course you don't.
You never did, you never had any consideration for my feelings.
How can you say that?
i'm sorry that I have to say the truth. Depression is my second prison. The first is here stuck with you two. It's about time i break free.