Depression feels like a weight,
dragging my mind down,
pulling me back into bed,
where thoughts swirl endlessly.

Thoughts of unworthiness,
of not measuring up,
to this life, to this world.
Each morning, I force a smile,
though tiredness weighs heavy.

I don’t want to be here,
but I must show up,
for family, friends, and students.
They can’t see me weak,
silent and struggling inside.

So I pretend,
pretend everything is okay,
as my mind battles to shut down.
Mum suggests keeping busy,
but how, when my body craves rest,
and thoughts overwhelm me,
urge me to sleep forever.

Yet I stay,
for them, not for me.
But...