Take two, there is too much blood

Sometimes, I have moments where my mind is reeling with negativity. You see, my depression has a way of making me believe things I know to be false. I scream at myself “That’s not true. Why would you think that?” and even still they become my reality. So I curl up in a ball and hold my head and try to stop the bleeding as my heart continues beating violently, trying to escape the chest that it’s trapped in because the emotions it feels are too strong. There is too much blood.
I take two minutes, and then its clear. I realize it was never blood, just tears. Never truth, just fear. And I can breathe again.
And then I have days when fear becomes truth. I’m scared to leave my room because then I have to try to pretend that those moments never happened. You see, all my depression wants is to be noticed. It strips me of my smile so that people will ask “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” No. Nothing happened and that’s the worst part. My life was fine until one day it wasn’t and now I forget what it feels like to be happy. I can’t be around people. And so I stay in bed and instead think about how much I miss my friends and their company but its out of reach because they don’t talk to me anymore. I am so alone.
I take two hours, and then it comes to me. I am only alone because I chose to be. And so I call my best friend and she makes me laugh, reminds me I am loved. And I can walk out the door. 
But then there are the nights when I really am alone. My best friend doesn’t pick up the phone and I am forced to confront that these problems are my own. You see, my depression is not just a part of me, it is all of me. I tell people “This is not me. This is not the person I am” but that is the biggest lie of all. I am forced to avoid my reflection because I am nothing but my depression filling an empty shell that can’t satisfy its own needs and has no interest to because when it looks in the mirror it only sees the object of its despair. What is wrong with me?
I take two days, and then two months, and then two years and I find the answer. I have an illness that is solely built on flaws I can’t fix. And so I look in the mirror and convince myself the flaws don’t exist. And for a second I can feel beautiful again. 
But even still, everyday I take two pills because you see, my depression is so stubborn it will take two lifetimes to leave. And so I still have those moments, those days and those nights and they have blurred so close together I have no reason left to fight. They are my life. And I’m tired. I can’t clean it up in my own because there is too much blood. 
Because no one understands there is something is wrong with me.
I am so alone. 
And there is too much blood.