I may not always reply to messages. I may not always answer calls. I may not be on time. I may not say anything at all.

It isn't that I don't care. It isn't that I am unkind. It isn't that I am ignoring. It isn't that I have no time.

It is that I finding strength. It is that I'm healing.  It is that I am fighting a fight. It is that I am always healing.

I am on a journey. I am searching within myself. I am quietly observing. I am always in caring.

To you, don't think I am forgetting. To you, don't take it the wrong way. To you, know how much you mean. To you, sometimes I just can't say.

This is, how I live on a daily. This is, sorry for transgressions. This is just a glimpse. This is, my life struggle with depression.

This Is my confession...................

Copyright © Jose Gonzalez 4/18/2016

hiding in the corners so no one can see me don't look i'm shaking and my mind is a mess it's one big huge scribble and I can't function I can't think straight my hearts racing and my bones shaking this is so ******* hard i'm so tight i'm wringing my hands with my head down I don't want to talk what if I have cancer I might die on the bus someone will see me breathe why am I here my arms hurt from holding myself still so I don't shake it's so ******* hard my head is a mess what if I die I want to hide and be invisible don't look at me breathe my heart is pounding and I can't think straight I feel sick what if I die what if I have a disease and no one knows what it is and I die before they figure it out and my head is a mess and i hide in the corners so no one can see me so no one can see so no one can see so no one can see
I just hide in the corners so no one can see.

I never professed to be pretty
certainly not beautiful
and okay so...
babies don't actually cry when they look at me
But..
I know what I am
what I look like
you don't have to remind me
Yes.. I'm awkward
I mess up my words
I'm shy until I know you a little better
But..
Do you notice I find it hard to look you in the eye?
I thought not
Do I wish the ground would swallow me whole
more than once a day?
You bet
So.. I'm not really comfortable in my own skin
I know that..
But I refuse to have a thick skin
to man up and to take it on the chin
with or with out a pinch of salt
I refuse to be like you
I don't want to be hard hearted and cynical
and I also don't want to brush off your comments
like they are nothing to me
Because every word you said
every thing you implied
I have thought of myself too
all the time
everyday
And if what you said hurts me
then so be it
But that also means I am not like you
I would rather be me
awkward
self conscious
scared
a great big bag of what if's
But ultimately happy
I care
I want to do better
I love
I am soft
I have passion and dreams
(okay, so weird ones sometimes)
but I won't make fun of you
and if I like you I will tell you
and I will remind you that I love you
You don't know what I have seen
and have been through
You don't know what happened to me
because you don't know me at all
So don't judge me on what you see
judge me on what you know
And by what I know of you
I'm just glad I am me

"Mum I've got a tummy ache
I think i'm not too well"
"Yes .. you do look a little peeky,
Oh dear.. what is that smell?"

"Did you eat something you should't?
did you eat something you should?
did you eat something really bad?
or eat something much too good?"

"Well I only had some prunes you see"
"How many?" .. *"twenty four..."
"good heavens take the toilet roll
and make sure you shut the door."

"Battle stations everyone,
someone hold the dog,
we might have to evacuate,
someone write the captains log!!"

"Stardate.. sometime this afternoon
someone ate too many prunes
seal them in the bathroom
and lock up all the rooms!"

It's going to be touch and go,
just stand in the door frame,
I've just bleached the ****** bathroom,
it'll never be clean again...

There was a daisy on the bus
just by the drivers door,
just laying there quite prettily
on it's own, just on the floor.

I thought about the fragility
of life and of things that grow,
and then I got to thinking
were did the daisy want to go?

Was it riding into town?
was it going to see it's friends?
or to meet it's long lost cousin
in the hopes to make amends?

Where did it keep it's money?
with it's pockets oh so small,
and did it have a ticket?
or did it pay at all?

And just how would it know
which stop to get off at?
it couldn't see out the windows
just on the floor it sat.

But as the bus pulled over
to stop again once more,
a gust of wind just caught it
and blew it out the door.

But thankfully for me
this was just my stop,
so both me and the daisy
off the bus we hopped.

Now the place my bus pulls over
is right by a meadow green,
full of dandelions and blue bells
the best you've ever seen.

So I look down at the daisy
and go to pick it up,
but the wind takes it far away
into the field of buttercups.

And now I just can't see it
so this is where our journey ends,
good bye my little daisy
in your field of little friends.