This text is dedicated to the people that want to help me. I am thankful for you, even though you can't help me. I know you know it and I am sorry. But this just feels like I need to do it on my own. It is too big and too ugly for anyone to see but myself. I fear that everyone would turn away from me, if they would see how I really am, how I really feel. They say depression means you are constantly worried. For me, this means constantly thinking about betrayal, about my best friends suddenly hating me, about me losing control over everything that I so meticulously hide. That is what I have my two faces for. My first face, that's the one you see. The normal one with all the expressions. It is like a mask behind which I can openly hide myself. My second face is the strange one. It can be ugly and angry or sad and crying. Sometimes, on my grey days, it's just motionless. It is observing how my first face smiles and talks and it wonders when it lost its ability to express itself. Most days my second face is just terrified. Of the people, of leaving the room, of the thoughts, of the world. The hardest part of my depression is not living with it, it’s hiding it. Making sure it never gets out, never gets seen. Sometimes I let it slip, because this is so exhausting. It takes all my energy to seem normal. But I have to push through, and every day give more than I got, because I know what happens if I don't. I am terrified of myself and the moment I lose that last strength I have. This one thing I conquer every day. But instead of being proud, my carousel of thoughts invites me on a ride to a place much darker than here. Sometimes it lasts just seconds, other times I am away for hours, and even though I usually can’t remember what I thought it feels like waking up from a strangely familiar nightmare. And that's why I have to do it alone. Because I would never take anyone of you there with me.