This is my attempt to sum up the feeling of depression.

Pathetic

I’m on the edge of hysteria,
trying to hold back my screams.
Pathetic.
I’m drowning in an endless stream,
of self-pity and despair.
Pathetic.
My little troubles are meaningless,
hardly even worth considering.
Pathetic.
Yet I’m having problems breathing,
without starting to cry.
Pathetic.
Too many feelings locked inside,
loath, pity, despair, hate...
Pathetic.
I hate myself for being so weak,
and I loathe myself for feeling sorry.
Pathetic.
I’m afraid of knowing myself,
because I doubt I’ll like what I find.
Pathetic...