“Don’t Push Me Away” is probably the most direct song I’ve ever written. And honestly? It might be a little cheesy. It’s definitely a guilty pleasure kind of track—the bass absolutely slaps, and there’s something unapologetically bold about it that feels almost too honest for comfort.
But sometimes we need songs that don’t hide behind metaphors.
The Reality Behind the Song
I wrote this because I’ve been on both sides of this story. I know what it’s like to be so deep in depression that you genuinely don’t want to be here anymore. I know that suffocating weight, that voice in your head telling you everyone would be better off without you, that you’re nothing but a burden dragging everyone down.
I also know what it’s like to watch someone you love disappear into that darkness and start pushing you away. To see them convinced that their pain makes them toxic, that loving them means suffering, that the kindest thing they can do is cut you loose before they drag you down too.
And I’m here to say: that’s bullshit.
No Sugar Coating
This song doesn’t dance around the hard truths. It doesn’t soften the edges or make depression sound poetic. It calls out the lies depression tells us about ourselves and the people who love us. It refuses to let someone use their mental illness as a reason to sabotage the relationships that could actually help them heal.
The chorus hits hard because it needed to. Sometimes we need someone to look us in the eye and say “Your darkness doesn’t scare me away. I’m choosing you, I’m choosing to stay.” Sometimes we need to hear that we’re not poison, we’re not cursed, and that losing us would be so much worse than dealing with our mess.
Why It Matters
Mental health conversations often focus on supporting the person who’s struggling—and that’s crucial. But we don’t talk enough about the people who love them, who refuse to give up, who stand guard at the edge of someone else’s storm. We don’t talk about how exhausting and heartbreaking it is to fight for someone who keeps trying to push you away “for your own good.”
This song is for both sides. For the people drowning who think they’re protecting others by isolating themselves. And for the people who refuse to be protected, who know that love means staying even when it’s hard.
A Guilty Pleasure With Purpose
Look, I’m not going to pretend this is my most sophisticated work. It’s direct, it’s a little dramatic, and that bass line is probably going to get stuck in your head for days. But sometimes we need songs that feel like a friend grabbing us by the shoulders and telling us exactly what we need to hear.
I didn’t sugar coat anything because mental illness doesn’t deserve sugar coating. Depression lies. Anxiety lies. They tell us we’re too much, too broken, too dangerous to love. And sometimes we need a song that calls those lies out loud enough to drown out the noise in our heads.
If this song resonates with you, if it helps you feel less alone in your struggle or gives you words for what you’ve been trying to tell someone you love—then it did its job. Sometimes the cheesiest songs carry the most important truths.
Listen to the full song on my Music page - available now on YouTube and SoundCloud, with more platforms coming soon.
Have you ever tried to push someone away to “protect” them? Or fought to stay close to someone who was drowning? This song is for all of us who know that love means showing up, especially when it’s hard.