A friend of mine sat me down today. He asked me what's wrong. I said, I'm doing fine. He said, no you're not. 80% of the times you make a sad face. I'm taken aback. Am I really not able to hide it?

He asks again, why are you sad? I say, I wish I knew. I tell him about my anxiety. He asks me why I'm anxious, I say I don't know. He keeps questioning me, he asks why don't I talk it out with him or anyone else. I try to explain that even when I don't know what's wrong, how can I talk it over with others. He tells me that I'm not doing enough to feel better. He says I'm stupid for worrying for my upcoming exams. He tells me again that I'm not doing enough and asks me not to cry, but I can't hold back my tears. I look away, he knows I'm crying. We sit in silence. I say I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I'm distant, I tell him that I'll work on it more.

But if only he knew that in trying to help me he has broken me to the extent that for the first time, I say that I stand defeated. When every second of my day goes into making sure that I feel better, I hear that I'm not doing enough, wouldn't I be defeated? 
I'm not doing enough, an easy statement to speak, but enough to break every bit of courage, self resilience and perseverance I had left in me.

I wish to be away now. Away from him, from the friend who keeps calling me all the time and I don't pick up, away from the stuff I have to do bec I have no choice, away from the friend who believes that he is the only wise person who knows what mental health disorders are, even away from those who truly love me and care for me, because I am no longer capable of accepting that love and this kills me.