Depression

Tricia, where are you hiding?

It’s come again.
Everything seems impossible.
Why do I even bother.
I will only fail. I will always fail.
This is what my brain tells me when surrounded by depression.

The last five weeks have been hell.
I emerge for a few hours or even a day, then fall back into the hole.
It’s been years since I’ve been down here for so long.
I don’t like it.

Thankfully, we are now taught to talk about it.
So that’s what I’ve done.
It helps but doesn’t solve the problem.
The problem is me.
This is what my brain tells me when surrounded by depression.

I’ve missed some perfect moments in the last five weeks.
Even when I do something good, I feel like it’s not.
I stand outside myself and watch the mayhem.
I don’t like it.

I’ve forced myself to walk in an attempt to climb out.
I’ve forced myself to take pictures in an attempt to climb out.
I’ve forced myself to write in an attempt to climb out.
But no one will care.
This is what my brain tells me when surrounded by depression.

If you haven’t been here, it’s hard to understand.
If you’ve been here, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
I don’t like it.
No one does.