Sertraline

Depression is a Cruel Mistress

I don't even want to ask how you are
Because I already know what you're going to say
I can't deal with your shit anymore,
I've got too much going on anyway.

Why'd I even reply in the first place,
Guess that was my first mistake.
I can't eat food anymore,
and my hands continue to shake.

You aren't depressed,
You just heard that word,
and figured it'll explain all your issues,
but it don't work that way, kid.

I know what depression feels like,
I've been living there for years.
It's a cold-hearted mistress,
who keeps you company in the dark.

She pulls you in close,
and never lets go.
If you try and escape,
She throws you into a river.

You thrash and thrash
and barely break surface.
But you do, and you're freezing
and right back where you started.

But none of this is easier,
And she's still clinging to your arms,
Pulling you back,
And isolating you from the norms.

She replaces all your energy with anxiety,
All your sleep with constant thoughts,
She mixes with your appetite,
And drains the beauty from everything.

You try to get rid of her again,
try to break free from her control,
But none of this is working,
And I just want to find my home.

So you see now kid,
These are just a few of the things,
That you aren't experiencing.
The mistress hasn't shown herself to you.

You aren't drowning,
You're watching someone else drowning,
And picturing it's you.
But, kid, that ain't good for you.

Stop it, kid.
Stop it, now.
You don't want the mistress to appear,
Trust me you really don't.

You have a chance before she catches on,
Take it whilst you can.
Stay away from me,
otherwise she'll catch your name.

The mistress won't take you,
As long as I'm around,
But she's got the gun to my head,
And I don't know how long I have now.