If I were to write a suicide note
I wouldn’t leave 12 tapes blaming 12 other people for my suicide
Because I don’t really talk to many people
You know, being depressed and all
I actually haven’t even left my bed in days
I can’t name the last time I’ve showered
Or the last meal that I’ve eaten
If I were to write a suicide note
I’d start off by apologizing
To my family, for hurting them like this,
To my best friend, for leaving her like this,
To my body, for ending it like this
And cry, shaming myself for the way my body can forgive me anyway when I can’t even forgive myself
I’d apologize to God, and wait for him to say my name
The same way I waited for him to answer my prayers so long ago
I’d call my suicide note a poem
Title it I told you so
Categorize it as my redemption
Dedicate it as a laugh to everyone that said they knew I would make it
See depression is not a glamorous Hollywood drama
It’s lonely, it’s dark, it’s what-do-you-know sad
It’s self-destructive
It’s not as relatable as anxiety
Or as cut-throat as Schizophrenia
Not as trendy as split personality disorder
My depression cannot be compacted into thirty minutes per episode, twelve episodes per season
Hell, if it were that easy
The therapy would be working
The pills would be working
There would be no chemical imbalance in my brain
See, my mental illness is not a New York Times best seller
Critics don’t give it two thumbs up
It doesn’t receive thousands of views on the internet
My depression just has me - breathing and alive
And alive
And still unendingly alive
If I were to write a suicide note
I’d leave it all in my head
I wouldn’t write one
Just like Hannah Baker didn’t