It wasn’t cute when I had to brush my teeth for double the amount of time just to make up for my lack of oral hygiene the night before. It wasn’t quirky when I could barely bring myself to scrub away the grime left over from all the food and bacteria in my mouth before it rotted my gums. It wasn’t special when I could scarcely get myself to take a shower even when it’d been a week since the last one, and my hair was a knotted bird's nest hidden under naturally hectic curls and a crap ton of coconut scented dry shampoo.
I've never seen depression described as accurately as this. I feel seen. (i know no one will see this, that's the only reason I'm bothering to write this.)
