Bad Again

I think I knew it was getting bad again when I started to do everything sitting down I think I knew it was getting bad again when a smile became much more difficult to produce when the room didn't light up whenever I was around when the tears came silently I think I knew it was getting bad again when my bed went from being my resting place to being a tomb when I couldn't look at any of my friends in the eye or when I started to assume I wasn't wanted or needed when my head felt haunted when I started bleeding.