“Why can’t you just be happy?”

“What do you have to be so nervous about?”

“You shouldn’t be so picky about things.”

“We don’t understand!”

Out of all of the careless lines that get thrown around,

Against those who fall to depression and anxiety,

Against those like me,

That’s the one that hurts the least.

Because you don’t understand,

At least,

Not many of you do,

Not as much as you think.

I can deal with hearing,

“We don’t understand,”

But since that’s often not an easy admission,

I tend to hide behind a smile,

I often act like I have it all together,

Because comments like,

“Why can’t you just stop?”

Makes me the problem,

It makes me the condition,

And it blames me for a chemical imbalance in my nervous system.

“Why can’t YOU,

Just be happy?”

The same reason YOU,

Can’t cure your type one diabetes.

But you don’t get that,

You choose not to understand.

I agree,

I do have so many wonderful things to be happy about,

I have a great family,

Fantastic friends,

A loving boyfriend,

And a bright future,

But my neurons don’t always feel like transferring that signal to the rest of me.

And instead of trying to wrap your head around that concept,

You lock yourself up in the idea that I must be ungrateful,

And you let yourself believe that I’m just looking for attention.

As for anxiety,

You laugh mine off,

And stack your worries up against mine,

Making my case more hopeless and frustrating.

“What do you have to be so stressed about?”

Really?

What don’t I have to be stressed about?!

As I make this transition into being an adult,

I am so unprepared.

I have no idea what I’m doing!

I don’t know how to buy a car,

A house,

Insurance,

Or how to take out loans.

I have scholarship deadlines,

Work,

Multiple college level classes already,

And essays upon tests upon homework upon auditions.

I’m told to set goals,

But not given time to achieve them.

I have to get good grades,

But still manage to help everyone out with their needs.

I have to get into a good college,

But also find the money for it.

And amidst all of this,

You shrug and say,

“I just don’t get it.”

Well no.

You don’t.

Because you refuse to.

And while a little effort might be nice,

In the mean time,

It’s just easier to be the happy-go-lucky me everyone sees.

It’s easier to write about my problems,

Than it is to try to get you to change your mind about what you think is a made up ailment.

For those that really don’t understand,

It’s okay,

I get it,

I really do,

And I’ll be alright,

I promise.

If you’re shocked to hear this about me,

I’m not going to be upset,

It’s not something I wear out there for everyone.

So it’s absolutely alright,

If you just don’t understand.