Posted in Poetry



I know you want to

help. But,

when I’m sad,

don’t try to make me laugh.

When I’m low,

don’t try to cheer me up.

When I look fed up,

don’t try to solve my


I don’t want solutions,

I want to be miserable

and cry my sorrows.

I want to feel my grief

pulling me down,

and the pain, all of it.

Yes, there’s a hole

on the sofa,

with the shape

of my bottom. And

yes, day time TV

can make you

want to cut

your wrists.

I don’t need a friend to

tell me that! And no,

I don’t want to go

to the cinema! No,

I don’t want to go

out for coffee.

By Anabela V.


I wrote this poem during depression. Sometimes you feel so miserable and you don’t want to feel any different. Your friends and family want to help, to cheer you up but you don’t want to be happy, you just want to feel the pain. Eventually you’ll come out of it, but that can’t be forced by no other than the self.


I can not decide if I am a teacher who writes or a writer who teaches, both activities give me equal satisfaction. Words are my secret place. I write about my experience as a mature student, mental health, living and raising a family in a foreign country, following my dreams and finding love later in life.

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