When attempting to fill out the Common App,
The document that will determine what college I can go to,
Will determine what the rest of my life is going to look like,
I came across the following essay prompt:
“Some students have a background or story
That is so central to their identity
That they believe their application would be incomplete without it.
If this sounds like you, then please share your story.”

And I want to write that having depression
Means not being able to feel anything,
Means being nothing more than a zombie for days on end.
That having anxiety means feeling everything at once,
Means forgetting how to breathe on a daily basis.
That having both means
Stepping on a landmine every morning when I get out of bed
And spending the entire day piecing myself back together
Just to do it all over again the next day.
That having both means failing all my classes for a semester
Because my body became a civil war
And my allies refused to send in reinforcements,
Instead insisting that the carnage was all my fault
Because I failed to see it coming.
That having both means being born
With a silver bullet between my teeth instead of a spoon,
Means doing everything I can
To stop my sickness from spreading to the people I love.
That having both means being born onto a
tightrope
With no net below me to catch me.
That having both means I am going to fall
And be expected to get right back up again.

I want to write all this, but I can't.
I have been taught that mental illness
Is something to be ashamed of.
That I am something to be ashamed of.
I have been taught to swallow my pride
With a handful of antidepressants.
I have been taught that no one wants to hear about
How heavy my bones are.
I have been taught that asking for help is selfish.
I have been taught silence.
I have been taught that having both
Means lying to everyone if I want to have a
fighting chance.