Sneak Attack

depression crying


Oh Depression, you sly fucking devil. I give you credit – you figured out a way to get to me this time around.

Sneak attack.

I know you were behind these recent events. You paralyze my reason. I’ve been living in a zombified haze of my normal self.

I should have known you were holding the puppet strings, Depression. You make me hate myself and instantly regret things as they happen. I hate regrets, almost as much as I hate you.

I feel so stupid for the things I’ve said and done – you knew that feeling alone would spiral me down right to where you wanted me. You mock me with your stone cold silence, although I swear I can hear you laughing as a champion of darkness.

There are moments where I am able to I rise up just enough to breathe in, smile and laugh for a moment – then your tidal waves of shame, regret and inadequacy pull me back under. You do not play fair. You know I never learned to swim strong – I know just enough to keep my head above water. You took advantage and exploited my weaknesses.

Depression, you know I need to stand strong upon solid ground, fully centered in the moment. You constantly pull the rug out from under me. You make me feel like I’m standing in quicksand. Uncontrollable. Defenseless. Weak. Sinking fast into the unknown.  Drowning slowly.

Yet there’s a voice deep inside. I can hear it even though the sound is faint, muffled and weak. I know I can rise above this muck and mire you’ve led me into. I will not let you leave me here in the desolate swamplands of despair to wither away.

My hope is a beacon in this darkness. I can see the sunshine far away. The hope of better days. Even if I must crawl on my belly, slowly dragging my spent body through this wilderness, I swear to you I will prevail. You will not get me to stay with you. I refuse to be your companion.

I will reach that light and promise of a new day.

New me. New life. Dare I say it? Love, respect and strength await me.

I know good feelings and better days are on the other side of these tar pits of desolation.

Yes, Depression, I know I am stuck with you for life. You are a burden sent down the family line to me. You are part and parcel of my lineage. I cannot escape you no matter how hard I try. You are that invisible terror latched on to my back, who jumps at the chance to drag me down to lay with you in the choking silence of your eternal night.

I still refuse to take the doctors pills to silence you. Those pills always amplified you and made you visible – that alone makes it harder to resist your grasp. I know I have the strength within to battle you. Right now I need to find and grip hard on to that saving grace branch of hope to pull myself up and away from you.

You played dirty this time, Depression. You are vile. I hate you with a passion that burns deep.

Enjoy your win with this battle. I will win this war one day. I will declare my victory over you and your minions of despair, loneliness, regret and inadequacy.

I shall prevail, my sweet invisible adversary.

Watch me.