Depression you got me again; You tripped me up, beat me down, brainwashed me to believe you were my friend again.
An inky gray dinginess clouds my vision.
Being angry becomes fun, I snap and snarl at anyone who comes near. Just one more thing might break the camel’s back and I might finally snap. Its a white knuckle way to live, exhausting deep down to the soul. I beg for relief but all my passions losses their potency, and everything is bland. Pain becomes the only constant beside the numb, days morph together, and times loses its value.
But then one morning I wake up, and it feels as if the sickness is reciting. Weak, and sensitive; I’ve learned to take my time with myself during this part of the process. I show myself tons of love, compassion, and even treat myself by indulging in a luxury. Slowly I come back to being a friend and don’t see myself as the enemy.
Depression you got me again; You have one this battle, but you’ve made me become stronger, smarter, better, a warrior, and I plan of winning the war.