Hell

I can't talk about this. I can only cry. It might be because I'm reading Angels in America but I feel like I came out, revealing such a horrible secret. I told mom about the way my thoughts twist themselves past the point of bearability. I said the word depression. She cried. I cried. I hate dad's ST inability to grasp this. I didn't expect him to; that doesn't make it hurt less.

Thank you for people like Matt who send me texts like this.