There is a spoken word poem about depression..
Do you know what depression feels like?
It feels like a thousand pound weight holding your body down in a pool of water barely reaching your chin.
So no matter how much your neck hurts, you have to keep your head up to survive.
It's looking at the sky and seeing how far away heaven is from you right now.
It's how much you hate now and every second after it.
It's the feeling of waking up pissed off for no reason in the morning.
It's a constant state of mourning when the only thing that died is your pride.
It's pushing everyone who loves you as far away as humanly possible because 'you don't deserve them'.
Desert them before they desert me.
It's quicksand sinking, it's feeling alone in a room full of people.
It's alright..
Yeah, I'm okay..
No, really I'm good..
It's applying a clown face and pretending everything is cool and content when you know you could explode at any minute.
Depression is four hydrocrodones, two pills and a poetry show.
Feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world.
It's tears that will never fall from your cheek, in fear of adding to the water that you're already chin deep in.
Yeah I want to die, but not that way.
Feeling like the biggest clown in the circus.
Worthless.
When will my best be good enough anyways?
It's being afraid of being alone with your own thoughts in an empty apartment but not wanting anyone around you.
It's going to the bathroom in total darkness, not wanting to see your own reflection.
It's taking five showers a day and still not feeling clean.
Depredation is the demon at the bottom of a Zoloft bottle.
Depression is the reason I called into work today, yesterday, the day before that and the day before that.
You could sleep for hours and still feel tired as hell, searching for a clear definition of self.
It's the thanks for nothing look you give people who tell you to pray and everything will be okay, but the only explanation is crazy.
But you wouldn't call me crazy if you knew how much I hate me.
It's biting your nails until your fingers bleed, steadily grinding your teeth.
Depression is the reason this poem has no ending..
