Down, But Never Out

Depression...

It doesn't go away when you're a realist.

I remember being really depressed as a kid. I also remember having 42 board games in my closet and no siblings to play against. I remember having a busy, always inquisitive brain that would not, and still won't, quit. Being a teen didn't help at all. Not when your heroes were offing themselves left and right, and the six o'clock news was blaring from every room in the house.

I don't watch television anymore. The people like me aren't the ones that I see on the screen.

Nights like this spent alone (11:16 p.m. on a Monday, currently) is when it finds its way into my apartment. Melancholia brings her photo albums full of wasted years and sits next to me on this beer christened couch and puts her hand on my shoulder. She leans in close and whispers bitter nothings. She removes my armor and pulls me from the things that I am grateful for. She makes me self-destructive. She won't let you in.

I find myself waiting for the sun to rise.
I find myself longing to seize a new day.
But first,
I show her out. 
Then,
I find
myself.

Writing it down is the first step.

I feel better already.

~Torres