What if I told you the world was going to end? What if I told you it would all come crashing down around you, and you got to watch as your family and friends screamed out and died? Would you believe me? Of course not. Because it was my world that ended. My most sacred and safe place was destroyed. So was my life, other's lives. As I came crashing down. The nights drew out, the days shrunk. Every shred of normalcy in my life disappeared.

The nights were colder.

The days were shorter.

My skin scorched and scarred with pain.

The light of the sun, becoming nothing but a bother.

The once comforting hugs became a weight on your shoulders.

I fell, and they fell with me.

The sickness of worry eating them from the inside out.

Well this is depression. The aftermath of bullying. Your darkness becomes longer, your light becomes a pain. It all crashes and burns making you want to do nothing but curl up and die. My sickness is one that many have. It is something that no one can understand. Not one person, because none of it is the same.

This is my sickness.