Depression is a friend of mine that has been my pain and comfort for many years now. He's been the friend who held me when no one else would. But he has a friend that likes to play that I don't like very much.

She makes me want to throw up every morning.

She makes me scratch my wrists to shreds.

She turns places of comfort into hell holes.

She makes me question all of my decisions and takes my lover, Sleep, away from me.

She gives me the panic attacks.

She makes me anxious just so she could laugh.

She makes me anxious around the things I once loved and my friends in reality have to try and calm me, to take me away from her.

And even though Depression may hold me, she will make Depression turn on me.

Meet the unwanted friend of a friend, Anxiety.