Depression

17 1 0
                                    

I look out my window pane and see darkness
I know it's not there because I look at the clock counting down the minutes till my demise
It's flashing 9
9 am
The sun is out and the birds are singing, but all I see and hear are the darkness and the voices the music no longer cuts through.
And as the darkness slowly chokes me. It's hands grabbing wildly to drag me down faster I hear a steady flow of the words spoken against me.
'You are not all you think you are!'
'Bitch!'
'Worthless.'
'Fatass!'
'You'll never be good enough. They'll leave you and then where will you be? Alone. Always alone.'
'Ugly!'
'You'll never be good enough'

I feel like I'm sinking so I reach out with a silent prayer to a god I do not believe in.

SAVE ME!

But there is no answer. No happy ending to my makeshift fairytale made from the broken dreams and bones and tears.

The tears all cried silently so my mother in the next room would never know. So she would not have another thing to worry about.

She has enough problems to deal with between puting me through school, working, and her mother.
My lovely grandmother. Who acted as if she new no wrongs and maybe she never did.

It was a different world back then. One full up with fullness. One where if your parents had jobs and you had food on the table then what pray tell did you have to be sad about?

Sometimes I wish I could make it back to Mayberry. That fabled place where you knew everyone and they. Knew. You.

But that place no longer exists. That dream is crushed like an ant under a ruthless child's feet.

And so I slowly sink back down further and further until I know for a fact I'm drowning and I scream but I realize it is silent and no one can hear me.

Do you hear me?

And that single question
a shot in the dark, another prayer to a god I have no use believing in. Because he took my light and snuffed it.

Promised me he would not bestow upon me more than my feeble psyche can handle. And then crushed it.

And as the final curtain closes and a single shot rings out. I fade just like my single light in the drowning, suffocating, isolating darkness.

Take a bow.

A poemWhere stories live. Discover now