lirik lagu angela k brown - depression
depression is when you lock the door of your mind and throw away the very things that are meaningful to you. you shut out your problems, because it hurts to explain what made you feel so sad, but, you just do
depression is to shut the fuel from burning inside that melts your heart and the pain burns your flesh from inside and your reaction is to run away from admitting that you were born with a disability and you cannot afford to not take medication to help you with your problem that you are trying to escape
depression is to isolate you from the world and your family by putting your hands in handcuffs just to contain yourself from confronting failure of not being able to communicate how you feel, and so, you yell at the insecure voices inside that tell you things reminding you how incompetent you are, why you don’t belong, why you should quit, because having a disability has consequences for having imperfections for being unequal
depression is to be afraid of being able to do things for yourself because you are tired of being judged for being different, like a baby who has a toy they doll they carry with them everywhere and every time you try something new the voices cry when the doll is taken away. you become a victim of neglect of needing love, so you carry the burden, you have no control over the feeling of hopelessness, you break a bond with my life by quitting which makes up for your delusional episodes and your suicidal tendencies, pretending to be things are okay while they are not, and so, you overdose to feel the heartache and pain you get from depression and your insecure feeling of being rejected die by those who hurt you
depression is to hide the fears underneath your dark blanket you use to cover scars of rejection that you have grown afraid of. being the centerpiece at the dinner table of repugnance where love jabs at your heart shaped ego and their jokes make you feel week, insecure, empty, alone and confused that your dark security blanket hides the hurt you carry to protect you from crying. you use the blanket to hide by smiling, afraid to speak up the truth that depression has taken the best of you. the blanket hides the scars with words that bite backwards in time from the ridicule of self-hate of not being good enough, hoping one day if only things would change, but they remain locked inside your head. there is no way out. there is no hope things will change. things will always be this way
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