Part of me wants to charge forward with all pistons firing
and leave a long dust trail behind me.
Part of me wants to lie in bed and weep.
You get miffed when you ask what's wrong,
and I say "everything and nothing".
I'm a fool to think you could understand
how small frustrations accrue into tragedy,
but I suppose I should thank you
because I get sick of your prodding
and put on my coat and go out
and do what I need to do
Your piece describes depression exactly - as well as most people's reaction to it. It's hard not to be understood. After awhile, those who just don't get it don't even try to hide their frustration and that just makes the depression deepen.
For those of us who have been there, you echo our feelings. For those who haven't, well, maybe they will understand a little better.