Hypochondriac.

It’s hard when you are grasping for a needle    
in a haystack just to feel one reason to live .  
I mean I’m sure there are plenty but depression twists the knife and defies all logic it’s got you flat on your back hiding In your bed having conversations in your    
head fuelled with crippling anxiety . Useless pathetic an absolute waste of space I mean look at what you have become . A loser who hasn’t got the strength left to brush your teeth or hair for Christ sake it’s not cancer you fake hypochondriac .You make me sick to my stomach you total unbeliever in the good in life regardless. You deserve to die and if only it was that easy to end your life but it isn’t. It’s the people you leave behind who will never be the same because of you . It’s a catch 22 . It’s being older and losing things and gaining all the feelings of grief but this is life. I can’t see in the dark all I can do is hear and it’s depression high on a lyrical beat box hyped on spikes of fight and flight adrenaline. I’m like the catcher in the rye . Caught afraid alone . I just want to find my way home to find some belief .