The Bitter, Lazy, Quitter

What’s a word for when you're crying  
And the tears burn like acid on your skin,  
Then the mirror shows a stranger's eyes,  
And every breath feels like giving in.  

When getting up feels impossible,  
And staying in bed is the only escape,  
When you try to sleep each night  
But dark thoughts steal any chance you take.  

When the days blend into each other,  
And the weight of emptiness pulls you down,  
When eating feels like a chore you can’t bear,  
And hunger is swallowed by an aching frown.  

When your chest is empty and full at once,  
And everything hurts but feels like nothing,  
When isolation is your only comfort,  
And masking it all has become so numbing.  

When you stare at your hands and feel strange,  
As if they're not even your own,  
When you hear your own voice, hollow and distant,  
A stranger echoing through a vacant home.  

I call it mourning,  
Others call it bitter.  
My family calls it lazy,  
My friends call it quitter.  

But they don’t see the battles fought  
Against the shadows that scream my name,  
They don’t see the tears that fall unheard,  
The weight of the grief I cannot explain.  

I wonder if they'll ever understand,  
Or if I'll fade before they do.  
A ghost in the corners of their laughter,  
Another forgotten truth.