Crying In Class

I'm jealous of the people

Who never freak out!

 

I'm jealous of the people

Who only cry at books

And movies, and not in class!

 

I know I am so, so lucky

To have great family

And to only have a 

Mild mental health problem.

 

But a mild mental health problem

Still makes you the outcast, the 

Only one crying and I don't even

Know what my problem is

Or if it even matters

Or if there's a

Way to treat it.

 

It's not depression!

I'm too happy for

That.

 

(Which I am also

lucky for.)

 

But it's something!

Something that 

Makes me

Cry.

 

In class.

 

I don't understand it!

Nobody understands it!

 

My mind just

spirals down,

I am lost

in the

trail 

of

life.

 

Sometimes I think

maybe I could

finally make a difference

by leaving the world and

donating

all 

of 

my 

clothes.

 

It's what the What's Up counselor

Called 'extreme, periodic sadness'.

 

My mind is not always a

Safe place to be.

This poem is about: 
Me

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