The Mask

The following is something I wrote while deeply depressed and in no way gives any indication as to my current mental state! Please proceed with caution as it may contain triggers!


What people don’t understand is that I’m hiding it and that it’s easy to hide it; all you have to do is put on the mask. It is at times so easy to hide the depression, it’s so easy to hide the mania, it’s so easy to hide the suicidal ideation. It’s easy to wear the mask because it’s easier than talking about it. Wearing a mask and hiding it all is easier than the ugly truth: I want to die. Wearing the mask is easier than admitting to the things you have done while manic. Wearing a mask covers it up, it covers up the pain, it gives you normality if even only for a minute.

Tonight, as I sit talking to friends and family, I fake it. I tell them what they want to hear. I send texts saying, “I can’t wait to see you,” while I’m wondering if I will ever see them again. I send texts saying, “I miss you” and I wonder if they will miss me.

The danger comes when the mask comes off; in those private moments, alone, at home. When we aren’t faking it for the rest of the world we are left with only ourselves and our demons. In these moments sometimes our demons can become too much to bear.

Tonight, I sit and I let every emotion I have been having pour over me. I am angry, so I scream. I am sad, so I cry. I am happy, so I laugh. I am manic, so I dance.

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