Maybe depression is all in one's head; I don't know if that's exactly true (since the head is connected to the body, and the rest of the body may be affected by depression), but it does seem that the source of depression does reside in the head.

1. That doesn't mean it isn't real

2. That doesn't mean it can't be overcome.

If you're feeling depressed, think about the reasons why... it doesn't come from nothing. Be kind to yourself; depression doesn't mean you're a bad person. And it does need expression (to sympathetic ears at least, which I believe we all are here).

(There is a distinction between depression and sadness, which I would not presume to diagnose.) 

Everyone wants to be happy, don't they? For some of us it's just a bit more complicated to get there than for others... but it's never impossible.

Hugs to all :)

I feel alone

And invisible  

My friends move away

I am shy

Voices in my head push all hope away 

I thinks I'll make a little song, one about marching through dark to find our way.

In the end, we travel through the forest

We can all make it back home

Once we get through the darkened trees

We can all make it back home

Though right not may not seem fine

We can all make it back home

Once we find the gravel path

We can all make it back home

Through the darkness, in the shadows, through the caves and mountains

If we all hang on to light

We can all make it back home  

Even if the wolves find us

Even if we are hunted

Even if our torch burns low

There is hope inside our broken hearts

Because they know, ahead lies treasure

They know, on the worn down gravel path

Our home lies peacefully, free of wrath 

They know, ahead lies our home 

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People with depression, don't worry. We are all here for you, and you are loved here. You are all amazing parts of the CB. Everyone is. So please remember that next time you get depressed.

Haven't posted in a while. Didn't really feel like human interaction lately. So I thought I'd post my random thoughts. In story form, of course. 

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I feel like there's nothing left. Nothing but a black hole. A black hole in my dead soul. They took the life from me. They took everything. My friends, my writing, my drawing, my music, everything. And they had the audacity to say they loved me. They never did. Not then, not now, not ever. So I just get tossed to the side. All the while they judge me. Mock me. Dismiss my accomplishments, to focus on their disappointment in me. Yea, that's love all right. Not that I'd know what love even is, not even if it slapped me in the face. Oh well, I say to myself. The tears are gone, now. The emotions suppressed. They build up inside me as I fade. Fade away. My head hits the ground as my demons welcome my darkened mind.

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Captcha says pvxx. Yea, xx. Like the eyes of a dead cartoon character.  

I feel ya. I'm neglected by my parents also, its always about my brother. He has a future. Look at those grades! That other one, why cant she be more like him? You know, these walls arent soundproof. I know I dance but I fail. I know you try and say you love my drawings. I know what you really think though, the walls arent as soundproof as you hope for. Oh, and remember we love you! Ya sure. And on that first part, that's what you made me. You made me who I am. And I'm not selfish or unempathetic. I care, you just don't know what that looks like. Because you can't care. While my brother's over there with his new iphone seven, what do i get? Nothing. Nothing because I'm not famous. Second best, even though I was born first. So I suffer.

I don't think I'm depressed, bu sometimes I really psych myself out.

Imagine that you work really hard, you try, and you're smart. But whenever you raise your hand, a louder girl speaks first, and often what she says is meaningless. You try much harder than her. But her teachers think she's really smart. She gets awards, and tells you that they don't mean anything about how smart you are. Easy for her to say. She's the one getting them. You are so hopeful, but because of that awful girl, no one knows how intelligent you are.

I'm that awful girl, to everyone in my class.

I've heard people say, "Oh, Red Pimento, you're so perfect. You don't even have to try. It makes me so mad!"

Someone said, "Show me your test score, so that I can feel bad about myself."

I was joking, they say.

No, you weren't. You all hate me, and for good reason.

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I don't really think this right now, but often, at home, at school, I do think this way. It makes me hate myself sometimes.