tired.

washed out, cold, grey, dead, deaths,
the shortening puffs of smoky breaths..
feeling really tired.
and gone.
Called a couple therapy clinics today. Feels like I come away with excessive amounts of sticky notes covered in suicide hotlines. Should collage them, ha.

Why is it so embarrassing for me? Why don't I want to come clean about it? Why can't I come clean about anything? Bluntness seems so crude for me.
And labeling myself as "depressed" or "anxious", makes it seem like I'm buying into this 'fad' of mental illness. I don't like the label, because I don't feel like I'd fit it, and people will judge me for perhaps not aligning with the understood "symptoms". Because, well I look fine, don't I? I hope so, I try my hardest.

why am I not okay with not being okay?