It’s knowing that no one wants to hear me say “I’m depressed.” – I can’t confess because I’ve been here before. I’m right here again. Again.
Depression. How could I not have fixed it last time? Why am I here again? How can I muster all the nothing inside me to be okay when I failed myself again? How am I back here, like last time? Last time when I was so bad and it made everyone so sad, but did it really? Because mostly I’m only an inconvenience, annoying at best. “I don’t feel good today, I think I’ll stay behind,” or “Can you please just tell me that I’m okay? That you love me? Something? Please tell me something kind because I can’t tell myself.” So the question remains, who wants to be around such a drag? Depression.
Depression. I can tell myself all the things that are supposed to help – stay positive, stay present, forgive, let it go, trust. Have faith that it will get better, it always does.
Depression. I’ve swam to shore from the whirlpool of depression before now, this isn’t the first time. I know the waters that make me weak. I know how to swim against the tide, and yet the current brings me back and sucks me under again.
Depression. Resilience only goes so far in the midst of depression. The cynic inside takes over and now there are two battles left to fight – who will take over? Depression? Hopelessness? Or is it me? Can I do this again?
Depression. The struggle gets more layers each time a new episode sneaks in. It gets creative as I get stronger. As I learn it, it learns me. An impasse. Depression.
I know I’ll be okay, just not today. That’s depression.