Dear parents,
Depression isn't a game.
Stop acting like it isn't a problem.
I'm not going to get better if you ignore the
issue, I'm not going to be happier because you
buy me a cupcake and pat me on the head.
Stop acting like it's my fault.
Like it's my attitude.
It's a chemical imbalance that I have no control
over. Stop getting angry and telling me that
this family would be better off without me,
that I have a terrible personality, that I'm a
bad person.
Don't you think I know all those things?
Don't you think that I'm reminded of them everytime
I look at you? Everytime I ask for a ride? Everytime I
need anything from you, I'm reminded of how much you
hate me.
I'm so terrified of you and what you're pushing me towards.
You terrify me.
So much that I can't even talk to you about.... anything.
I can't talk to you because I'm terrified of your reactions.
I can't come out to you.
I can't talk to you about my meds and their side effects.
I can't trust you.
~ Your depressed, bisexual, chronically ill child.
Depression isn't a game.
Stop acting like it isn't a problem.
I'm not going to get better if you ignore the
issue, I'm not going to be happier because you
buy me a cupcake and pat me on the head.
Stop acting like it's my fault.
Like it's my attitude.
It's a chemical imbalance that I have no control
over. Stop getting angry and telling me that
this family would be better off without me,
that I have a terrible personality, that I'm a
bad person.
Don't you think I know all those things?
Don't you think that I'm reminded of them everytime
I look at you? Everytime I ask for a ride? Everytime I
need anything from you, I'm reminded of how much you
hate me.
I'm so terrified of you and what you're pushing me towards.
You terrify me.
So much that I can't even talk to you about.... anything.
I can't talk to you because I'm terrified of your reactions.
I can't come out to you.
I can't talk to you about my meds and their side effects.
I can't trust you.
~ Your depressed, bisexual, chronically ill child.
Dear sister,
Stop it.
I get you're a middle schooler and that
you hate me.
But please stop ruining my life.
I'm tired of hiding in my room, blockading the door
and having no way to contact the two people who I actually
care about all because you thought a tantrum was necessary.
Stop it.
I get you're a middle schooler and that
you hate me.
But please stop ruining my life.
I'm tired of hiding in my room, blockading the door
and having no way to contact the two people who I actually
care about all because you thought a tantrum was necessary.


































