I do not want the night to end. I do not want the day to begin. I prefer lying in the bed as getting up feels stressful. I know I might be hungry, but I know I can make it without eating. I want to go out and meet people but I am afraid I will be judged. I have passions and want to pursue them, but the thought of failure is overwhelming.

I want to sleep, but I am afraid of the dreams that may show up. I do not smoke, I do not drink, but I am addicted to sleeping pills. But even they can no longer make me sleep. I want to be fit, but I keep gaining weight. The more I try to shake it off, the more it engulfs me. In the back of my mind, a thought lingers.

“What if I end this once and for all?”

The mind swings between suicide and sustenance. I do not know when the former will overcome the latter. I do not want to die, but there is no point in carrying on either.

They say, “Talk to someone.”

I want to talk. But I feel vulnerable. I cannot even tell my parents because they will not understand. I cannot tell a friend because they will think I am weak.

I am not weak and I love opening up. But a demon inside me does not let me start. I do not know why. I am in a fight where I do not know whom I am fighting. I am clinically depressed and I want to talk.

I just need someone to ask.

“Will you?”