would you look down upon me too?

Suddenly, everything is surreal. 

Issues of the mind are real. 

As real as you are. 

But you think they only exist in one's mind. 

What if I told you that they existed in me?

That forced disinterest is real?

That falling into an empty pit, within me, is real?

That what I write about it true?

That I wish I could cry instead of losing my ability to feel?

Would you look down upon me too?