There are times in our lives when we feel a cold blancket fall over us. Times when even in the brightest of day, we see and feel only darkness. I know that feeling better than the back of my hand. Seeing all the smiling faces, and forcing a mirror imagein response. Only the truely observant ones can see the secrets that our eyes give away. And then they ask us what's worng, and suddenly we're "okay", we're "fine". Beecause we can never seem to grasp that others know how we feel. And even if they did, we are always so sure they don't really want to hear it anyways... They have their own lives... We feel... Alone.
Most people have that one firend they can go to for... But we want to keep it that way, so we keep our mouths shut. They say you can count the number of true friends you have using only the five fingers on either hand. Well I can count to four real easy, except for when the cold blanket wraps itself around me... Then I can't even move. My arms are stuck to my sides, and I can't move my hands... I can't see the back of my hands, so the darkness and the cold become more familiar... More recognizable... And slowly I Forget how to count to four... And slowly... I'm alone... Again...
The darkness, and the cold, and the lonliness become a sort of cocoon. Instead of helping me thrive though, it slowly ruins me... And I can tell no one... My one hour therapy sessions are wasted because I'm too scared to tell her something is wrong. My one hour therapy session becomes a 45 min session because I'm so obviously "okay"... I'm fine... I'm alone... And then an epiphany! I'm not alone! Not if I embrace the loneliness and accept the fact that I don't need anyone!.. Pathetic... That brings the real deppression crashing down. At this point it's like being stuck in a cage with a lion. As it gaurds the only possible way out, it alos pounces at you repeatedly, taking a little bit of you with it but never quite finishing you. It seems like now the better option is a mercy killing... But that can never be the answer, right?
So I run from the lion... I try to climb out of the cage... I feel like I'm there... I take a hit of the fresh air... Taste a single drop of freedom... But suddenly I fall... I crash. And I'm back in the cage with the lion. The deppression has become an entity... I'd much rather be alone. I can try and distract myself a little, but it always comes back. My "methods" of forgetting only work for a short amount of time. The methods a psychiatrist would only sedate it though... The only way out is through the front door... But the lion gaurds it... I don't know what to do... So I let it take me apart slowly... I'm in my blanket of cold... I stare at everything but see nothing.. My deppression is my only companion... But even then... I... Am... Alone
Joining my schools poetry club and I'm thinking of using this for something. Comments and stuff are alwyas welcome. I take criticism so don't hold back. Thanks for reading!
