Step inside my mind and see what I deal with each and every passing day. See the torment and pain I try to hide inside my mind, away from your eyes. A diagnosis that doctors see as something that can be fixed with medications, yet they don’t really know. They just want to make more money, and dig you a deeper hole. The thought of a therapist makes you a nervous wreck, yet you know it will help you in the end. So you go to some sessions, until you can get back on your feet again. Yet it still lingers there, lurking in the shadows of your mind, ready to strike you down once again.
Pinning you down to your bed, leaving you staring at the ceiling hours on end.
You don’t bother to count the tiles or dots on your ceiling, you just stare blankly at it. With your doors locked and windows shut, you crawl deeper under the covers while the movie plays on in the background to keep you somewhat sane. The paints on the floor and canvases scattered, you steer clearly away from them until you have mustered the courage. Forget the poetry, forget the bills. Just removing your body from the bed is like being on trial in hell. It literally feels as though you are a puppet on a string, letting it have control of you and everything.
Once you’ve finally felt like you are feeling better, you head to work and begin to write again. But you know that it will strike you once again, because it lingers in the corners of your mind. But you know that it is part of the battle you must face, and you must live with it every single day.
* Depression is not something to be made fun of, and it isn’t something to be labeled as “sad”. It can try to control your life, and that’s something I know very well. This post is what I have dealt with my entire life and it is a very real thing. My “medication” is my poetry and my painting, it helps me get through the tough days. If you are suffering from depression, please see a trusted physician or psychiatrist. It may be hard to go at first, but it will be worth it. Trust me.