Snakes and Such
I dont think its easy to grasp the concept of depression.
This is probably because it is not concrete, anchored, bound to one definition.
It pools around you ten feet tall before it enters your peripherals.
Completely unnoticed by its host for as long as it takes to fill a hamper, with the ocean.
Then depression sicks its sharks on you, showing only dorsal fins poking through the veil of 'normality'. Putting a gram on the other side of the scale, breaking balance, breaking you.
Slowly those sharks become serpants. Those serpants lick at your ankles, a facade of a friend.
They pull your legs together, dissembling a foundation, as they make their way up your legs. Around your chest they begin to constrict, pushing your lungs closer together like a long distance friendship never severed. Taking away the ability to breathe as you forget that you want to, breathe.
They whisper alternative facts, promising a better day soon, that this will not be 'forever'. But they never prevail.
The ten foor tower of water surrounding you begins to grow dark as you realize, yes, you are indeed depressed... again.
Those antidepressants, they worked so well you felt so completely normal and laughed without reason.
But you forgot.
You arent normal.
You forgot normal people dont ahve to take those little pharmecuticals to remain engulfed in serotonin. And on top of the reemerging depression, you forgot to take them.
So you sit on your bed with your knees drawn to your chest, hyperventilationg quietly as those familiar tears, stop by.
For three and a half hours.
You want to escape so so badly, but how can you escape your safe haven? When all you know to be comforting is, right next to you.
How can you, how can I be saved?
When will it be
O v e r?
Copyright © Annabelle Dillon | Year Posted 2019
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