Depression, a Poem

By River Potter

A woman by the name of Elizabeth Wurtzel once said,

“A human being can survive almost anything as long as she sees the end in sight

But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily that it is impossible to ever see the end.”

And she was right

You see, depression is a cycle that I am forever held captive by.

A cycle that takes me the hardest when I’m alone in the dark.

And regardless of what many may say, depression is not a light switch

I can’t turn it on and off like the lights in my bedroom. 

For depression is the tormentor of my dreams

Dreams that throw me back to my memories.

Memories of the people who have left.

Left through hatred or by death.

Death, now a thing I no longer fear.

Fear is only relative to what petrifies me.

And what petrifies me is not dying but living. 

Living takes me back to my mind.

My mind sends me into panic

Panic turns to insecurities.

Insecurities turn to self loathing

Self loathing turns to harm

And harm turns into a monster 

A monster who’s name is shameful to say in my perfect household.

A monster who eats me from the inside out beginning with my brain and ending with my heart. 

It consumes me until there is nothing left. 

And when it is done it will leave my scraps for the flies.

It doesn’t need to come back for seconds because it has already eaten me whole.

But it always does

It comes back to lick my bones dry.

Shooing away the flies whom it left me with in the first place

Then it gorges itself on those very bones.

It is a monster who can only be subdued with medication that leaves me numb

And talks with people who probably never even experienced it themselves.

I’m sorry.

I shouldn’t make assumptions.

I’m just tired of the nonsensical bullshit those therapists spew.

Go on a walk, they say 

Get some more sunlight, do something new

Like that will drive away this beast.

Nothing can scare it away

If it did I would already be cured.

But instead I lie in the dirt

Letting myself be taken by this cycle over and over again.

Until I can finally get away. 

If I can get away.

Now I know I’m not the only one.

It’s not just me who deals with this silent killer

It’s Abraham Lincoln

A man who helped shape our country

It’s Buzz Aldrin

The second ever man on this planet to touch the moon

It’s Robin Williams

A man who has brought so much joy to others

It’s 19.4 million people 

People who have been taken hostage by this thing too

Finally, it might even be the person next to you

A person who is one of the strongest on this earth

For they have fought this beast head on

And they are living to tell this much needed tale.

For we are soldiers of a different kind

We are warriors of the mind. 

We will face that fear of living. 

We will let ourselves be taken by the cycle.

Because we don’t want to become numbers. 

We don’t want to seen as cowards or selfish

I don’t want to be a number

I don’t want to be seen as a coward or selfish

Or to let my little sister find me on that bathroom floor. 

So I will keep fighting until there is nothing left for me to give.

I am not brave

I am not selfless

I am human. 

And I am scared. 

But I always have my depression there to comfort me

There to hold me in the dark

Even if I don’t want it to, it does

Because if all else fails at least I can go back to the safety of habit

Back to the endless cycle that leaves me lying in the dirt

Hopeless and uninspired 

But at least I won’t be scared

Until I am taken again

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